#it's such a tough fight that i liked to spend the first two chapters farming as many health items as possible

[queenofspades6]

More than partners (The Mandalorian x reader)

Sorgan

Chapter 9 of More than partners

Summary: The Mandalorian finally admits his feelings for you.

Warnings: extreme fluff. Jealous reader. And Cara Dune teases reader about her relationship with Mando.

AN: Last week I didn’t have much time to write another chapter so this week I decided to write a long long long chapter! I hope you will enjoy it! And forgive me for not posting this chapter sooner! Enjoy! Feedback is also appreciated! Tell me if you want to be tagged!

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<Chapter 8 — Chapter 10>

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***

You had landed on Sorgan with Mando and the Child hours ago, and you began to feel worried when the Mandalorian wasn’t going back. You were staying in your cabin in the Razor Crest, the Child sleeping peacefully in your arms while you waited for Mando. Desperately, you tried to stay awake to greet him when he came back, but you felt your eyes closing slowly and you couldn’t fight sleep.

***

“Y/N. Y/N. Wake up. We need to go.”

A familiar hand was on your shoulder, and you supposed the Mandalorian was finally back of his little trip alone.

“Mando. You’re late.”You said, stretching yourself slowly while watching the Child circling around the bounty hunter.

“We have a bounty. We need to go.”He only whispered, not giving you any further explanation.

It was the middle of the night, and you didn’t understand why suddenly the Mandalorian wanted to chase a bounty tonight? Why couldn’t he wait tomorrow morning?

“But… We’re in the middle of the night. It can wait tomorrow.”You claimed, slowly laying back to your couch.

“You wanted me to find a bounty. I have find one.”

Groaning, you stood up, following the Mandalorian outside. The Child followed your steps quickly, as a chick would do with his mother.

You got off the ship quickly, but at your greatest surprise, you didn’t expect anyone else than Mando waiting for you.

A strong woman was talking with the Mandalorian. You took a minute to examine her. She had a lot of tattoos, and one caught your attention particularly. She had a tattoo under her left eye, an obvious sign that she was or had been part of the Rebel Alliance. Instantly, you knew you would like her. It was brave to have such a visible tattoo in the midst of a war, clearly making her an easy target for her enemies.

“Y/N.”You heard Mando say with his modulated voice, finally breaking your thoughts.

“What?”You replied, your eyes still fixed on this mysterious woman.

“Cara Dune was talking to you and-”

“It’s nothing.”The woman named Cara Dune answered a genuine and fierce smile on her face.”Name’s Cara Dune. I suppose you’re Y/N.”

“Hmm. Right. That’s me.”

You smiled awkwardly. You hated when the Mandalorian was treating you like a Child. During the previous days, you clearly were closer to Mando, but suddenly, he was distant. Was it because of this Cara Dune?

You couldn’t be jealous because you decided instantly that you liked Cara. She seemed a good fighter, and you could swear she was or had been part of the same Guild as the Mandalorian.

“Ready to sleep in a pile of straw?”Cara Dune questioned, smirking.

“Always. I need to take care of that tin can there.”You said, still a bit angry with the way Mando has introduced you to Cara.

The Mandalorian was the first to climb into the cart, and then he gestured you to sit next to him. The Child in your arms, you completely ignored Mando and sat close to Cara Dune. You put the Child in the straw of the cart and embraced him with your arms to protect him. It had only been weeks, and yet you cared deeply for the Child as if he was your own. Maybe it was because he looked a bit too much like your old Master, you thought.

Then, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

“She’s tough, I like her.” Cara told the Mandalorian, gesturing to where you were sleeping.

Even though you were supposed to sleep, you couldn’t suppress the smile which was slowly appearing on the corner of your lips. You heard Mando groan, and you gazed at him quickly hoping he wouldn’t notice. He was laying on the straw, the helmet’s visor in your direction. You didn’t know why, but you knew he was silently watching you through his helmet.

You wanted to go to him and sleep on his shoulder with the Child sleeping between the two of you, but you were stubborn and a bit resentful, so you just looked away, trying to sleep without the man you loved..

***

It was morning and you had finally arrive to the farm. Children were laughing and playing in the fields. Seeing them so happy made your heart ache. Jedi or not, you wanted a family.

“I am Omera. It is so nice to meet you.”

The Mandalorian didn’t let you reply, he began to introduce you to the woman, as it you couldn’t do it yourself. You shrugged.

“I will show you where you will sleep. Follow me, please.”Omera declared, looking a bit too long at Mando.

Omera showed you the barn where you would sleep with the Mandalorian and the Child.

“I assumed the two of you would want to spend the night in the same room.”She muttered.

“Oh no! No, we are not together.”You interrupted her at your own regret.

When you saw her turn her face away and grin, you felt anger rising in your body. You knew that Omera had set her eyes on the Mandalorian, but didn’t Mando tell you you were his the other day? Was it all a lie?

“I hope this will be comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn.”Omera uttered, giving you blankets for the night.

“This will do fine.”The Mandalorian answered, glancing at the two cots while Omera was staring at him insistently.

Even though Mando was wearing his helmet, you knew when he was kind with someone. And here, he were clearly too kind with this woman that just give him a barn to sleep. You frowned, you didn’t want to spend another second with him and Omera, it was making you sick.

“I am going to check on the Child.”You murmured, leaving them finally alone.

Spotting the Child with the other children, you took a chair and sat, observing them at a convenable distance.

“Can I sit here?”

You gazed at the person talking. It was Cara.

You nodded absently.

“You okay?”She asked, using the back of her chair as an armrest.

“Yes, yes. Mando is talking with Omera.”

“I see.”She whispered, smirking.

“What?”You frowned.

“So you and the Mandalorian, huh? You two are a thing?”

You looked away quickly hoping Cara didn’t see your cheeks flushing.

“Of course not. He is a Mandalorian.”You stated, your eyes glued to the ground.

“And?”

“I am a Jedi, Cara. We can’t love.”

You didn’t expect Cara to break out of laugher.

“We can’t love.”You repeated, hoping this time she would explain what was so funny.

“You can’t, but that doesn’t mean you don’t.”

You huffed and looked away. She patted your shoulder in a friendly way and muttered.

“Good luck.”

And then, she left you alone. You smiled to yourself. You definitely loved that ex-shock trooper.

***

When you came back with the Child in your arms. Omera and her daughter were still in your so called room. Omera had brought you your meals. You put the Child in front of his plate and waited for him to eat.

“Can I feed him?”Winta questioned, glancing at the Mandalorian and then at you.

“Sure.”You and Mando answered at the same time. You looked at him and saw his gaze was on Omera who was watching her daughter feed the Child. You clenched your fists tightly to control yourself.

“Can I play with him?”Winta asked this time.

“Sure.”Mando replied.

You watched the Mandalorian take the Child in his arms softly, as if he had the most precious thing in his hands. He put him on the floor with Winta. She began to go outside, and when Mando realized Winta was going to take the Child with her, Mando couldn’t agree.

“I don’t think…”

“They’ll be fine.”Omera interrupted him, approaching him quickly.

“I don’t…”The Mandalorian continued.

“They’ll be fine.”Winta’s mother continued.

You saw her arm on Mando’s shoulder, and you wanted to initiate your lightsaber to fight, but you knew it wasn't the way of the Jedi. You were supposed to protect people not kill them because of your stupid jealousy. Maybe you weren’t fit to be a Jedi, maybe you would have been a better Sith, you told yourself.

“I brought you some food. I noticed you didn’t at out there. I’ll leave it there for when I go.”Omera declared, her eyes glowing with desire and love.

Omera took one step closer to the Mandalorian, and it was enough for you. You couldn’t just stare at them while they were talking as if you weren’t there.

“I am going for a walk.”You uttered, grabbing your lightsaber and heading for the exit of the barn.

“Y/N. Don’t go.” You heard the Mandalorian say, yet you couldn't’ listen to him.

Not this time.

Loving him was hard enough, but seeing a woman flirting with him while he wasn’t doing anything, it hurt you. It reopened old wounds. Wounds you thought were healed years ago when you had become a Jedi. When you were younger, you had many fears. You knew you wanted to become a Jedi, but you didn’t think you had the strength to do it. You doubted yourself, and you thought you didn’t deserve the title of Jedi. But when Master Yoda spent months to train you, he helped you grow your confidence and your trust in him. And now, Omera was quickly digging up your biggest fear. The fear of never being enough.

You ran towards the forest, where nobody could see you and hear you scream. You needed to be alone.

“Why is it always so difficult?”You shouted, kicking a tree and throwing your lightsaber.

“Hey. Easy there. You can’t just throw that now.”

You startled. It was Cara. Again, you thought. She gave you your lightsaber back and fastened it to your belt. You let yourself fall on a tree, closing your eyes, and feeling the wind against your cheeks. You heard Cara doing the same.

“He cares about you.”Cara spitted not looking at you.

You turned to look at her, and she wasn’t lying.

“Obviously. I am the Child babysitter.”

“That’s not what I meant. He really cares about you, not just as a babysitter. Why do you think Omera believed you only needed one room?”

You chuckled, and she laughed too.

“That’s only a mistake.”You whispered between two laughs.

“That’s what you want to tell yourself, Y/N. He can’t be away from you too long.”

“Stop joking, Cara.”

You giggled.

You heard someone coming and you initiated your lightsaber, ready to kill whoever wanted to hurt you and Cara. You glanced at the ex-shock trooper. She was ready to attack too.

“Y/N! You’re safe. I thought something had happened.”

The Mandalorian was here, staring at you and then Cara.

“I told you so, Y/N.”Cara said, putting away her blaster.

“I am going back.”She said, leaving you and the Mandalorian alone.

Mando didn’t seem to care. He waited for you to walk with him.

“Come on. We’re heading back.”

You nodded.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”He questioned.

You didn’t reply. You kept walking silently.

“Y/N. Answer me. I know something is wrong.”

The Mandalorian suddenly faced you and put his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from walking further.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

You sighed and tried to fight Mando.

“You should go back to Omera.”You spitted, venom in your voice.”I am sure she’s looking for you.”

Mando paused, and then he understood. He finally understood why you were acting so distant and so angry.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”He asked.

“I am not! She is just flirting with you all the time, and you are letting her! That’s the worst! You avoid me all day, and suddenly when you need me, you’re looking for me. I am not just a toy you can use when you need it.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t Y/N me! I am a Jedi and you’re just playing with me!”You cried, a single tear running on your cheek.

The Mandalorian slowly wiped your tear away with his gloved hand.

“I am not playing, Y/N. You’re a Jedi that’s why I am avoiding you.”He explained calmly, his hand still resting on your arm.

“You should have told me you hated the Jedi so much before bringing me with you.”

“I don’t hate the Jedi.”He uttered, staring at the ground as if he was ashamed of his behaviour.

“So what? You hate me?”You interrogated, clear hurt in your voice.

“No. I hate the fact that you are a Jedi and I am a Mandalorian! I am avoiding you because I know that I won’t be able to control myself when I am around you. I can’t control what I feel for you, Y/N, even if it’s against my Creed.”He declared, his breathing getting heavier.

He knew love was forbidden for him, and he couldn’t marry a Jedi. But he had been told what to do his whole life, and now he wanted to start a family with you and the Child more than anything.

“Is it true?”You questioned, taking a step back to protect yourself from his answer.

“Yes, Y/N. It’s the truth.”

Mando headed towards you and took your hands in his, slowly caressing the skin.

“I think I have feelings for you, Mando. I know we can’t, but I don’t care about the rules anymore. I only know that I want you and only you.”You murmured, enjoying the touch of his gloved hand against your skin.

“I want nothing more, Y/N.”

*****

⬇️chapter 10⬇️

Tag List:

@lol-who-am-i @kiaralein @kryttlebee @jedi-dreea @katialvi @hoodedbirdie @heaven77 @eyeliveinabook @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @mitamixer @arianagrandethebestt @fleurdemiel145

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. This is part 2 of the finale. After an awkward meeting with his father Kes you are hoping things will go smoother with his friends....

Your wedding is set for the next morning, nerves are shot on all ends.

But then you lay your eyes on Zorii Bliss, Poe's first love from his tumultuous, spice runner days.

And the low self esteem, and anxiety, hit you like a ton of bricks.

Instead of feeling like the luckiest woman in the galaxy you are worried, extremely worried.

Will your wedding go off without a hitch or will you hit a snag?

Warnings, angst, jealousy, smut on steroids. PORN! Lmao. The sexiest damn wedding night ever with the space husband of your dreams. 🥰🥰🥰

Flirting with disaster chapter 7

You know that Poe is a friendly guy but that hug between him and his ex seemed way too intimate for a man who's wedding is less than 24 hours away.

You know their history. When Poe ran away from home at 16 he joined the spice runners and immediately forged a bond with Zorii, who was in her late teens.

He lost his virginity to her, and at one time they were deeply in love. You understand that they are connected for life because of that but did he really need to embrace her? Right in front of you? And the kiss on the cheek wasn't needed.

You don't want that woman at your wedding, but you don't know how to tell him. You're almost certain that he wouldn't agree with your decision.

Everyone is gushing over little Maxim, who is on his best behavior and soaking up the attention.

"He's so cute, look at his hair". Zorii tells Poe, looking at him fondly. "You sure do make beautiful babies".

Her words make Poe blush a little and bite his lower lip, with a slight smile he tells her,

"We're thinking about trying again, maybe next time we'll get lucky and have a little girl".

"I don't know, Poe". Zorii teases, laughing and jokingly punching him in the arm. "I think you're only capable of making boys".

His face turns an even deeper shade of pink and he looks down at the floor. You realize that they are friendly exes but why does her presence make you so uncomfortable?

When you return to the Dameron family farm Poe notices that you are being quiet.

"What's wrong, babe?" Poe asks, slipping his arm around you, nuzzling your neck affectionately.

"Nothing, it's nothing". You reply quickly, closing your eyes as he begins to plant soft, fluttering kisses on your neck.

"If it's about Zorii you have nothing to worry about". Poe explains, his kisses becoming wetter and more passionate. "We have a unique past that we share together and that's about it, she was my 1st, but you are my last".

"Oh Poe". You reply, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I never should have doubted you".

"You had my baby, and I want you to have more of my babies". Poe tells you softly, looking deeply into your eyes and caressing your cheek with his hand. "I can't wait for you to be Mrs. Dameron".

"You're the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, I love you and our son so much". He finishes, kissing you tenderly. "I wish you could see yourself like I see you".

You collapse onto the bed together, and Poe hungrily reaches under your blouse to caress your breasts.

"Not so fast". You tell him with a playful laugh. "Save your energy for tomorrow night".

Early the next morning your best friend Joy Nich shows up to help you get ready. She surprises you with a beautiful woven chain necklace made of beskar for you to wear.

"It's stunning". You gasp, putting it on and admiring yourself in a mirror. "You shouldn't have, it looks expensive".

"I love you like a sister". Joy tells you, tears running down her cheeks. "I've never seen you smile so much in your life, Poe makes you so happy".

"He really does make me happy". You tell her, with tears of joy rolling down your cheeks. "He is so thoughtful, he's so tough, brave but still so sensitive".

You're wearing a beautiful, white, robe like gown made of soft, gauzy material. You are wearing a crown of beautiful native flowers and carrying a matching bouquet.

You're getting ready in a tent not far from where you will be exchanging vows.

Poe is in the tent right next to you, getting ready also and having a heart to heart with his father.

"I wish mom was here". Poe tells his dad, fighting back tears. "I wish she could meet her grandson and daughter in law".

"I know we haven't seen eye to eye in the past". Kes tells Poe, putting his hand on his son's shoulder. "But I love you, and little Maxim, you make me proud".

Poe can't keep it in anymore, he breaks down and starts crying. Kes gives his son a big bear hug, smiles a little and says,

"Your mother would be very proud of the man you've become too, kid".

So far so good, you tell yourself with a smile, you've done a great job staying strong. Everyone important to the rebellion is in attendance, Rey is one of your bridesmaids and Finn is Poe's best man.

BB-8 rolls down the aisle, acting as your ring bearer.

Kes walks down the aisle holding his grandson.

The sight of your brave, handsome husband at the end of the aisle in his dress uniform, complete with the medals that he earned in battle, takes your breath away.

Just when you thought Poe Dameron couldn't look more handsome and dashing he has the audacity to show up looking like that.

"Wow, look at you". Poe whispers into your ear.

"I was just about to say the same". You whisper back.

General Organa officiated the ceremony. The two of you share your first, passionate kiss as a married couple.

The crowd goes wild and there isn't a dry eye in the room. Zorii is cheering you on with a look of genuine joy in her eyes.

Afterwards you attend your wedding reception, set up amongst the beautiful, lush jungle. But you don't stick around for too long, Poe wants to jump ahead to the honeymoon.

The two of you hike to a secluded campsite not far from where you got married, but it's still extremely private.

You're near a waterfall, and the temple. The inside of the tent has been carefully set up for your wedding night. There's a big, colorful, pillow like bed in the middle, colorful rugs everywhere, and lanterns that create the ideal mood lighting.

Flower petals lead to the bed, Poe takes you, his new bride, into his arms and carries you over to the center of the room.

He does a sexy little strip tease for you. You return the favor. His beautiful cock is hard and oozing precum for you, you're already dripping wet for him but you get even more turned on when he looks deeply into your eyes, the passion burning in his own, and says,

"I want to put another baby inside of you, tonight".

You roll over on your back and spread your legs wide open for him. Poe's hand slides between them, exploring every wet fold gingerly, delicately. You sigh deeply from his tender touch. There's a bowl of warm, perfumed massage oil sitting on a short table next to the bed that he's dipped his fingers into.

"I live to please you, babe". Poe whispers into your ear, his words sending chills down your spine. "I love you with all of my heart, mind and body".

The sensation is toe curling and pleasurable as he softly inserts three fingers inside you while gently rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb.

You cum for him, squirting like a fountain. His head ducks between your legs, tasting your juices mixed with the sweet massage oil.

With his tongue buried inside your vagina you cum again for your gorgeous husband, filling his mouth with your warm ejaculate. Poe hungrily swallows it, you get on all fours and he wraps his arms around you and slides his fat cock deep inside.

As your pussy tightly grips him your juices drip down his balls. Poe reaches around and massages your clit, making you grip harder and moan from delight.

You are both drenched in sweat from the humidity in the air. His curly hair is a mess. It feels like raw, dirty, baby making sex.

His warm, fertile seed fills your womb. Afterwards you carefully recline on your back, careful to not spill a single precious drop.

With his fingers oiled up again Poe massages your lower belly, near your uterus.

A few drops of his cum are visible on your outer lips, which excites and arouses him.

"I hope it's a little girl". He tells you, smiling a naughty little smile.

"How do you know that I'm even pregnant?" You tease, closing your eyes and enjoying the little massage.

"Poe Dameron never fails at a mission". He teases, leaning over and kissing you.

"Whatever you say, flyboy". You tease, laughing hysterically.

You fall asleep nude and cuddled up against each other in an intimate embrace. The next morning you wake up before him, Poe is fast asleep next to you, with a beautiful smile on his face.

You can't believe he's really your husband. That this gorgeous man chose you to spend the rest of his life with.

You fidget with your wedding ring, his mother's ring, that he wore around his neck for all those years.

When Poe finally does wake up you're resting next to him, enjoying the warm, tropical air on your bare skin.

"You're so beautiful". Poe mumbles sleepily.

"I know". You reply, your smile looking more confident.

"Good". Comes Poe's groggy reply.

The end

[twilights-800-cats]

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Chapter 7

Sunhigh had come and gone by the time Stoneheart, Wolftooth, and Pinewhisker made it to the edge of ShadowClan territory, where the marshlands and the Twolegplace met. The long stretch of fence, broken up into different materials depending on the size of a Twoleg’s territory, made a boundary that was difficult to miss, especially since ShadowClan had been marking the very bottoms of those Twoleg fences for seasons now.

“What’s the point of this?” Pinewhisker asked as they approached. His tail had been flicking the whole trip, and he looked back at Stoneheart. “I thought this lake of yours was where we’re meant to be.”

“It is,” Stoneheart grunted, noting Pinewhisker’s skeptical tone.

Wolftooth raised his head. He’d been sniffing at the boundary, to make sure that it was still intact, but now his pale eyes were glowering right into Pinewhisker and Stoneheart. “Russetstar says that Twolegplace is an option, so an option it is. The warrior code says her word is law.”

Pinewhisker still didn’t look satisfied. “Then let her come and scout it out,” he mumbled.

Stoneheart rolled his eyes and forged ahead, staring down the line of Twoleg fences. Most here were well-maintained, but further down the line there was a well-known spot where cats could squeeze through a gap in the wooden planks and come and go between Twolegplace and marshland. It had been suggested ages ago to block it, somehow, but ShadowClan’s leader at the time, Raggedstar, had disagreed.

“Let the kittypets come,” he’d reportedly crowed from atop the Clanrock. “They’ll feel ShadowClan’s claws and flee like the cowards they are. If they don’t, we’ll keep them!”

Stoneheart didn’t know how true that was, but the hole in the fence was real enough. He raised his tail when he found it, and Wolftooth and Pinewhisker were soon by his side. It smelled as if no cats had made their way through it in a few moons – likely because of the Twolegs stomping through the forest.

Wolftooth went first, his broad shoulders scraping at the edges of the wood. Pinewhisker was a thinner cat, and he slipped through with ease. Stoneheart took up the rear, ducking to avoid the feeling of wood rubbing against his ears and anxious not to be stuck.  

The yard beyond the broken fence was somewhat famous in ShadowClan for how in disrepair it was compared to the yards and dens around it. Stoneheart couldn’t imagine a Twoleg wanting to stay there for more than a moon – the windows were broken, and some walls had rotted-out holes as big as a badger. Twoleg trash of all shapes and sizes were strewn about in the long, unkempt grass, and the smell of crow-food hung faintly in the air.

It reminded Stoneheart of the Twoleg nest he and the other journeying cats had taken shelter in with Purdy in his big Twolegplace – though, somehow that one had seemed cleaner. Self-consciously, Stoneheart licked at his shoulder. The rat bite he’d gotten there had long since healed, but the injury had certainly been an inconvenience to himself and the others.

“We should keep moving,” he meowed, feeling wary. “There might be rats around.”

“Right,” Wolftooth agreed. He lifted his tail. “Let’s go.”

The big gray tabby led the way through the grass towards the fence. Pinewhisker took the rear as they followed the ragged slats of wood around the old den, towards the Thunderpath that lay past it. Stoneheart pricked his ears, noting that this was a smaller Thunderpath, one that could only fit two lines of monsters.

He tasted the air and found only the reek of monsters, but at least it was on the stale side. “Seems quiet,” Stoneheart meowed, whiskers twitching.  

Wolftooth’s eyes flashed. “Good,” he grunted. “I’m tired of Twolegs – their monsters, too.”

“We should wait until night,” Pinewhisker pointed out, glancing at Wolftooth. “The Twolegs would be less active.”

“We’re on a time limit,” Stoneheart reminded him. “Moving at night would be best, but it’ll take too long.” If the missing cats are here, we have to find them!

Wolftooth was nodding in agreement. “He’s right. For now, let’s keep away from the Thunderpath and to the shade. That ought to keep us hidden.”

Following that thought, the three cats clustered together. Though they were arguably the three warriors most familiar with Twolegplaces in all of ShadowClan, Stoneheart had to admit that they all felt the same level of discomfort. This place was not meant for cats, and Stoneheart felt it in every fiber of his being, like he had in Purdy’s Twolegplace.

What if Russetstar ends up choosing this place for us anyway? Stoneheart wondered with a shudder. The decision would no doubt divide ShadowClan. I certainly don’t want to live here!

“So, what’re we even looking for?” Pinewhisker wondered. The three of them had crossed into another yard, heading away from the forest. “We’re not going to find a marsh in all this.”

Wolftooth kept them close to the fence, following it even when it touched the side of a Twoleg den. As they brushed their pelts past the pockmarked stones that lined the den walls, Wolftooth glanced back and meowed: “There might not be marshland here, but there are places where there could be enough shelter for a Clan.”

Pinewhisker scoffed. “Surely not all in one spot!” They broke into a trot, crossing the open yard to the fence on the opposite side. Stoneheart could feel his Clanmates puffing, their bony sides heaving. “Some Twolegplaces have spots that might be big enough, but there wouldn’t be enough prey!”

“Trash attracts mice,” Stoneheart pointed out, glancing back at a scrapcan pushed up near the fence behind them.

“It also attracts rats and raccoons,” Pinewhisker returned, curling his lip. “Have you ever fought a raccoon?”

“Can’t say so, no,” Stoneheart admitted.

Pinewhisker narrowed his eyes. “Well, you don’t want to!”

“Just keep a look out,” Wolftooth meowed, looking back at the other two. Stoneheart felt the older tom’s frustration in his gaze. He’d already voiced his disagreement with living among Twolegs again. “Alleys, old dens... there are places to live in a Twolegplace.”

“But can you live well is the real question...” Pinewhisker mumbled, when Wolftooth had turned his back.

Stoneheart had to agree, but he also had to admit that, as they stalked along Twoleg dens and fences, he wasn’t looking for a place to call home – he was looking for any signs of the missing cats, a goal he was aware that the others were ignorant of. So far, there was nothing – and he wasn’t sure what he ought to be looking for in the first place, and the sounds and smells of the Twolegplace were clogging his every sense.

What if they’re not here? His heart trembled with worry. We could spend a moon searching this place and find nothing at all! He thought of Rowanclaw, lost to the Twolegs – what would they do to his beloved? Stoneheart couldn’t imagine Rowanclaw settling into a kittypet’s life! Would he be forced to live like a rogue?

“Let’s have a rest,” Wolftooth suggested finally. He pointed with his nose to what lay ahead – it seemed like the end of their quiet journey was almost done, and taller buildings took the places of the smaller dens beyond what looked to be a larger Thunderpath.

Pinewhisker flopped down. “Thank StarClan – my paws hurt.” He bent to lick them.

Stoneheart glanced about, finding some broad, leafy dock growing just along the fence they were near. He pulled off a few leaves and began chewing them, like he’d seen Shadepaw do many times on the journey. His poultice was messy, but he passed it off to Pinewhisker.

“Thanks,” Pinewhisker mewed, rubbing his pads in the green goop.

“Want some, Wolftooth?” Stoneheart asked.

Wolftooth shook his head, and turned over his pads. They were hard and gray, toughened to stone. They reminded Stoneheart of the Tribe cat’s paws. “I was born here, remember?” Wolftooth meowed. “I’m good.”

Stoneheart nodded in understanding and rubbed the dock on his own paws. He hadn’t had much of a chance to hunt with the Tribe cats while he’d stayed in the mountains, so his pads had hardly developed any toughness before they reached the forest again. Still, it seemed like they didn’t sting as badly as Pinewhisker’s.

“I thought you lived with Twolegs, too?” Stoneheart wondered to his Clanmate.

“Not in a place like this,” Pinewhisker admitted. “I grew up on a farm beyond the Carrionplace – my mothers were mousers. Twolegs might’ve pet me now and then, and I might’ve seen a vet; but I didn’t cross too many Thunderpaths.”

“Lucky,” Wolftooth grunted. He glanced at the stone river nearby, wincing as a monster crawled past. “I’ve seen many a cat die on a Thunderpath.”

“They were probably running away from you,” Pinewhisker joked, whiskers twitching.

Wolftooth’s eyes hardened, and his claws flexed in the grass. “They were,” he growled, no humor in his tone.

Stoneheart suppressed a shiver, and he heard Pinewhisker gulp. The thought brought back memories of fighting at Fourtrees, battling for the safety of the forest with his sister and four Clans' worth of apprentices. It was easy to forget that Wolftooth had been a part of BloodClan, and how ruthless those cats had been – especially for cats like Pinewhisker, who only knew the stories.  

“Was BloodClan really as awful as they say?” Pinewhisker wondered, his voice quiet. “Cats passing by our barn didn’t often mention them, but when they did...”

Wolftooth nodded. “Meaner than you’ve probably heard, in some ways,” he rumbled back. “But as far as I know, they’re gone now.”

“I hope so,” Pinewhisker murmured. “I’d hate to share territory with anyone like that.”

Stoneheart fidgeted, and he decided that now was as good a time as any – there was no way he could search on his own: “Russetstar made it seem like staying here wasn’t her plan.”

“What do you mean?” Wolftooth wondered, raising his chin. Beside him, Pinewhisker looked hopeful, suddenly, his ears pricking up as Wolftooth went on, “She went on and on about how it was an option to consider and all that!”  

Stoneheart blinked, feeling faintly embarrassed – but he twitched his whiskers and explained: “Cats from all the Clans have gotten captured by Twolegs, not just Rowanclaw. One of them was Tawnypelt – I think that if we find her, we might be able to change Leopardstar’s mind and get her to come with us to the lake. Russetstar wasn’t sure whether or not the missing cats would be here, but...”

“But she thought it’s a good place to start,” Pinewhisker finished. He sagged with relief. “Thank StarClan, Russetstar hasn’t gotten bees in her brain!”

Wolftooth swallowed, and suddenly he avoided Stoneheart’s gaze. “I never got to say that I’m sorry about what happened to Rowanclaw...”

Stoneheart stiffened. “Wolftooth...”

“I tried,” Wolftooth sighed, staring at his paws. It felt strange to see the proud older warrior look so upset. “I’ve gotten cats out of that situation before, Stoneheart, I swear it by StarClan – I tried everything I knew! But it just wouldn’t open... and then the Twolegs came...”

Stoneheart hesitated. He’d never thought about being upset about Wolftooth’s failure – the only thing on his mind had been Rowanclaw’s safety. Stoneheart got to his paws and touched his nose to Wolftooth’s ear.

“It’s alright,” he promised. There was a tug at his heart, like a claw was pricking him there. “I’m not angry. I understand. I just want Rowanclaw back.”

“We all do,” Pinewhisker murmured.

Wolftooth raised his head, and the older warrior looked determined. “We’re going to find him,” he declared assuredly. “I swear it by StarClan.”

Stoneheart felt warm from his ears to his toes. “Good,” he purred, “because I’m not leaving him behind ever again.”

“Ugh, what is this?” crowed a voice from above. “I want to retch, it’s so annoying.”

Stoneheart looked up, and his heart began to race. Balancing on the fence were four ragged, lean cats, their pelts rumpled and marred by scars. They each glowered down at the ShadowClan patrol with hungry, angry eyes and, worst of all... Stoneheart saw that two of them bore collars bristling with dog’s teeth.

“BloodClan!” he hissed, springing to his paws. Curse this Twolegplace! If there hadn’t been so many smells and sounds, there’s no way these rogues would have snuck up on them! And Wolftooth was just saying how BloodClan was gone...

Pinewhisker and Wolftooth were immediately on alert, claws unsheathed and spines bristling. Stoneheart’s mind began to race – there were four of these ragged cats, and three of the ShadowClan warriors; but BloodClan fought without remorse, and this was their territory. Even if the ShadowClan cats were smarter and more disciplined, they were at a huge disadvantage.

“BloodClan?!” repeated one of the cats – a ragged ginger-and-white she-cat. She looked offended by the name. “BloodClan hasn’t been around for forever - we’re IceClan cats!”

IceClan? Stoneheart glanced at Pinewhisker and Wolftooth, confused.

“Yeah,” said another of the “IceClan” cats, a gray tom with a foul odor. He gathered his haunches, glaring down at Stoneheart with narrowed green eyes. “We’re IceClan... and you’re going to regret setting your nasty forest paws on our territory!”

All four IceClan rogues were on alert now, hostility and eagerness rippling through their pelts. Stoneheart squared his shoulders, feeling Wolftooth and Pinewhisker press up against him in preparation for an aerial assault.

StarClan above, Stoneheart thought desperately, glaring into the eyes of their leader, I hate Twolegplaces!

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 17]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 3,400

Chapter 16

“She hates me,” Steve whispered the moment they were alone.

Bucky sighed.

Before calling Steve, Bucky hadn’t realized his actions would put him between Y/N and his best friend. He wanted to be there for both of them. Except he couldn’t side with Steve when he had been a complete and utter idiot. And he had no problem saying that to the punk, either.

“You know Steve…” Bucky sighed again. “You got pumped full of glorified steroids that made you grow a foot and gain over a hundred pounds.” Then he shook his head. “But it clearly didn’t do a thing to that head of yours, because you’re still shit with women.”

Despite the truth behind the insult, Steve still glared at Bucky.

“Thanks. Real helpful.”

Bucky took a step toward him. “She doesn’t hate you, Steve.”

He dipped his head. His newly shaggy hair fell a bit in front of his face. “She should.”

“You messed up,” Bucky told him bluntly. “So, fix it instead of feeling sorry for yourself.”

Steve gave him a little side smirk. “When did you get so harsh?”

Bucky scoffed, knowing Steve was only trying to tease him. “I happen to like Y/N a lot. Always have. But I’m done watching you hurt her because you’re an idiot.”

He started to walk away. His gut was telling him to go check on Y/N. But she had Steve now. It was his place now.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve called out before he could make his leave.

He turned around.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” Steve told him softly.

Bucky just stared into his eyes, trying to find a hidden message in his soft blue eyes. Was there jealously lingering? A subtle threat to stay away from Y/N?

But all there was in Steve’s face was sincerity and gratitude.

So Bucky just nodded awkwardly and continued on his way.

———————————

The next morning, Y/N heard a light tap on her door. She opened it to see a guard waiting for her on the other side.

“His Majesty has breakfast waiting in the Great Hall. He wished for me to ask you to join him,” the Kingsguard asked her carefully.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Is…” She had to stop herself from saying ‘Steve’. “Is Captain America attending as well?”

The guard seemed to have been prepared for such a question. Still, he shifted his weight uncomfortably and then nodded.

“Send His Majesty my apologies, but I have to take a raincheck.”

The guard wasn’t surprised by her response. T’Challa must’ve given him the heads up about the current situation.

Y/N gave him a forced smirk before slowly closing her bedroom door again. She’d hide out there for the rest of Steve’s visit if she had to.

————

Bucky sensed a presence heading towards his farm and somehow just knew it was Steve. He kept doing his gardening.

Before their little fight, Y/N had recently made a comment about how much space Bucky had on his property and what a shame he didn’t use any of it to plant flowers or fruits and vegetables.

“So, this is how you been spending your days…” Steve said as he looked around at Bucky’s farm, all the animals, and newly planted crops.

Bucky glanced up at him, wincing as the sun hit his eyes, but continued gardening. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You seem to really like it here,” Steve sighed.

Bucky paused to look into his friend’s eyes and nodded, “I do, actually.”

“I’m glad, Bucky. Really glad.” His words couldn’t be more sincere.

“You talk to Y/N yet?” Bucky had enough of the small talk.

Steve shifted his weight and stared at the ground. “She won’t see me.”

Bucky wanted to say, ‘Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.’ But he refrained from doing so.

“Has she….” Steve put his hands on his hips and took a breath. “Has she said anything to you? About what happened? About me?”

Bucky finally stopped gardening. He plunged his trowel into the dirt so it stood up straight, half buried in the ground. He brushed his hand on his Wakandan tunic and finally got to his feet.

“Why do you think I called you, Steve?”

No response.

“She’s not talking to anyone. She won’t even talk to herself.” Bucky shook his head. “Yeah, Y/N’s mad at you. Real mad. But she doesn’t hate you. She could never.”

Steve never looked more guilty.

“The two of you have already been through so much. Hell, you guys fought time to be together. Yeah, you fucked up and Y/N’s not making it easy on anyone. But you can’t just leave her when things get tough because you think that’s what’s best for her.”

Steve smirked. “When did you get so wise?”

Bucky punched him lightly in the shoulder. “When my brain finally got cleared up with a little help from a Wakandan princess.” Then he gestured around them. “All I do is sit alone with my thoughts. Kind of hard not to get perspective on things.”

Steve just nodded in understanding.

But Bucky’s face had now gone dark and serious. “This is the hard part.”

Steve squinted, but just waited for him to continue.

Bucky ran his hand through his sweaty and knotted hair. There was no easy way to say what he was about to say. “I…I know what happened to Y/N.”

Steve took a step toward Bucky with a glare. “You just said she refused to talk to anyone.”

Bucky rubbed his face. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

Steve waited.

“I know... because I was there.”

Steve swore his blood ran cold. He immediately started pacing, distressed with all the directions his mind was going, all the scenarios he was imagining.

“Was it you?” Steve finally rasped.

“What?” Bucky blinked.

“Were you the one that did all of that to her?” Steve had never used such an angry tone toward Bucky before. And quite frankly, it was catching Bucky quite off guard.

“No! I would nev-” But Bucky stopped himself short, because who knew what he would’ve done to Y/N had he been ordered to?

Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Just…come inside, will you? I’ll explain everything that I know.”

An hour later, Steve was clenching his hands together into a fist. He had to do something to stop them from continuing to shake with pure rage. He was seated, forearms resting on his knees.

His eyes were glossed over with tears.

Bucky just watched his best friend like a lost puppy.

He hated being the one that had to tell Steve everything that happened to Y/N. But she showed no signs that she’d ever open up and talk about it.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Bucky finally whispered with his head hung low.

Steve blinked at him.

“I should’ve done more,” Bucky continued.

Steve should’ve stopped his best friend’s guilt. But he was dealing with his own emotion, still shocked by everything Y/N had been through. He didn’t have it in him to talk down Bucky.

“I know you stayed away because you think being near her makes her travel to dangerous places in your life,” Bucky went on with a quiet tone, like he’d break something if it he spoke any louder. “But if you’re using that logic… it was me that nearly got her killed, not you.”

Steve sat up straighter, but still couldn’t find any words.

“You truly believe that loving her is what puts her in danger. But just being friends with me put her into the hands of Hydra.” Then his sad eyes met Steve’s. “Still think you’re the worst thing to ever happen to her?”

——————————

Y/N was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a screen display of sorts, making it appear as if she were on a jungle floor, looking up. It was almost disturbingly realistic.

Her mind is racing with both how to approach Steve and how to make sure she never has to see him again while he was in Wakanda. It was strange to want nothing more but to run into his arms while simultaneously wanting to slap him across the face for abandoning her.

Just when she was in the heat of her turmoil, she started feeling that tingle that had conditioned her blood to run cold with fear.

Her eyes widened as she sat up in bed, quick as a whip.

She swore under her breath as she tried to work the Kimoyo beads around her wrist just like Shuri had taught her.

A wave of relief washed over her when a hologram of Shuri projected from the bracelet.

“Finally using your Kimoyo beads, I see.” The princess beamed.

“Shuri! It’s happening. I don’t have much time. I just needed someone to–”

But she was already gone.

———————————

Bucky and Steve quickly turned to the door when they heard multiple people approaching Bucky’s hut outside.

Bucky put a palm on his friends chest, silently telling him to tease at ease.

“Bucky! Captain Rogers!” Shuri called in a panic as she knocked on the door.

Bucky rushed to the door and flung it open. Shuri was on the other side, with half a dozen Dora Milaje in tow.

“It’s Y/N.” Shuri said, clearly out of breath. She must have ran all the way here.

Steve now jolted forward from Y/N’s name alone.

“She’s traveled,” Shuri quickly added, not wanting to add any more suspense.

Then the princess held up a bracelet of Kimoyo beads. “But I’ve finally gotten a reading of when she travels.”

———————

The first thing Y/N heard was crickets. By some miracle it was warm and dark. There was a relaxed feeling in the air. Dare she say it was even a little soothing?

Y/N looked around, quickly taking in her surroundings. It looked like she was at a fort – no, not a fort. It was a camp.

“Camp Lehigh!” Y/N gasped, remembering Steve telling her about the place he had trained for the army, before he had even received the super-soldier serum.

It seemed to be late enough in the night that no one was wandering the camp.

Her observations were halted when she caught a figure through a window.

It was Steve. Pre-serum Steve, to be exact.

He was sitting on a cot, alone in a cabin.

His hands were fidgeting in his lap. Anyone could tell – even watching through a window – that the boy was nervous.

Y/N’s chest tightened when she realized this must be the night before the procedure.

She took a step toward the cabin, but then quickly stopped herself.

She didn’t have to go to him. She could easily find some extra clothes or a military blanket and hide this out until she returned to the present.

But it was in that moment that Y/N realized how much she missed Steve. But it wasn’t just Steve, it was their past. Believe it or not, even with her time traveling, it seemed like she’d been brought back to simpler times. Times when Y/N was just a friend visiting Steve. This was before they fell in love, before Steve took responsibility to ever single bad thing to ever happen to Y/N.

And Y/N realized she missed it.

She missed the innocent way young Steve used to look at her and talk to her.

So, Y/N found herself tiptoeing toward his cabin now.

Her fist hesitated above the wood before knocking lightly.

“Come in,” Steve answered.

Even those two words were unable to hide his nervousness.

Y/N slowly opened the door and slipped into the cabin.

Steve jumped to his feet when he realized it was not a comrade or scientist entering.

He quickly looked away from her and even shifted his body so he was angled in a different direction than her.

Y/N smirked, forgetting for a moment how shy and innocent this version of Steve was.

It was strange to know there could ever come a time when Steve didn’t avert his gaze. That he would drink in her naked body, claiming it and taking in every detail as if she were the most beautiful being in the world.

“Sorry,” Y/N quickly muttered, not wanting to make the poor boy uncomfortable. She quickly whipped a blanket off one of the extra cots and wrapped it under her arms, almost like a strapless dress.

As soon as he knew she was covered, Steve quickly turned back to face her. He was beaming at her.

“What?” Y/N asked, almost with an accusatory tone.

“Nothing. I…I was just thinking how much I wish you could be here. And then you just – you appeared. I feel like I just got a wish granted by a fairy godmother or somethin’.”

However, Y/N didn’t find it as amusing as him.

Her response made Steve’s face drop slightly.

“You OK?” He asked.

She just nodded. Then she moved to sit on a cot. But she didn’t choose the one that was right next to his. Instead, she chose the one that was opposite of his, on the other side of the room, putting unnecessarily extra space between them.

Steve didn’t miss it and hesitantly sat on the edge of his own.

Y/N was grateful that her bruising was basically entirely gone. She didn’t feel like answering questions.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

Y/N finally looked into his eyes.

“It’s just…” he continued, “You won’t even look at me. And you’re so… You’re so far away. Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N swallowed and looked down at her bare toes.

“Not this version of you,” she finally muttered without even meaning to.

But even with his bad hearing, Steve still caught it. His eyes widened.

“What did I do?” Steve whispered.

She just shook her head and shrugged. “I shouldn’t – I can’t tell you things like that.”

Steve sighed and nodded, understanding why she couldn’t say more. “Well, I’m still sorry. I wish I could say I’d stop myself from clearly being an idiot. But we know that I can’t really change the future.”

Then he looked up and gave her a sheepish smile.

Silence settled in the cabin and once again their ears were filled with the sound of crickets outside in the summer air.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go through with this tomorrow,” Steve mumbled, eyes refusing to leave the ground.

Y/N instantly stood up. “What?” She gasped and then moved to sit on the edge of Steve’s cot. “Why would you ever say such a thing?”

“Maybe I’m not as good of a person as everyone believes I am,” he mumbled again.

Y/N reached under his chin to make Steve look her in the eye. “That’s impossible. Steve, you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you like this, so certainly I messed up big time.”

Y/N sighed.

As soon as she started thinking of how to handle this situation, her eyes became coated with tears. “Yeah, you messed up. Big time.” Then she let out a laugh as she wiped away some tears.

“Are you going to forgive me?” Steve asked, clearly scared of her answer.

Y/N’s gut reaction was to say, ‘Of course. You’re the love of my life.’ But Steve didn’t know that yet.

She sniffed and rubbed away more tears. “It’s going to take some time. But I know we’ll get through it.”

Steve seemed relieved by that. “I’m sorry…for whatever I did.” He told her again. Then he shook his head. “But I do know - not matter what - if you’re mad at me, I’m real bent out of shape about it. Can’t imagine anything worse, really – you being mad at me.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Seeing and hearing the sound made Steve lighten up a bit and smile at her.

And just like that the tension seemed to be released from the cabin.

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” Y/N asked him softly, bringing the attention onto him now. She moved to the cot next to his so she could face him. 

Steve winced at the question, but then reluctantly nodded.

Y/N reached over with the hand that wasn’t holding her blanket up and squeezed his hand. “It’s going to be fine. I know, because I’ve seen it.” Then she winked at him.

Steve swore his heart stopped from the gesture.

“Does it…Does it work?” He asked.

She gave him a side smirk and nodded.

“You’ve always had a big heart, Steve. I didn’t think it was possible for it to get any bigger. But soon you’ll get to act in the name of it. If you’re doubting Dr. Erskine’s decision to pick you… you shouldn’t. He couldn’t have chosen anyone better.”

Steve blushed at the compliment. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Now…enough of all this. We need to talk about something more important.” Y/N told him with a newfound mischievousness.

Steve tilted his head to the side. “What’s that?”

Y/N smirked, “That new crush you have on Agent Carter.”

His eyes immediately widened and he blushed. “How-What-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Y/N laid down on the cot and faced him, like a giddy teenage girl at a sleepover.

Steve laughed and did the same, laying on his side to face here.

Their faces were barely two feet away from each other.

Y/N asked him questions about Peggy, loving to see what Steve was like with a schoolboy crush, especially knowing that soon it would be more than just an innocent crush. No, soon Peggy would be his first love.

They giggled and joked around. Steve’s mind was taken off of the experiment that was just hours away.

In return, Y/N was reminded of how Steve and Y/N’s relationship started. Before The Avengers, before Hydra, before Steve put saving the world before anything and anyone… Y/N and Steve had merely been best friends.

It was silly to think that ending her relationship with Steve would magically stop her time traveling. Because even if they weren’t in love with each other one day, Y/N realized she would always love Steve.

As the sun was just about to hit the horizon and make its way into the sky, Y/N had fallen asleep on the cot across from the Steve. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen asleep so easily. So deep in a sleep, in fact, that she didn’t even feel the extra blanket Steve had draped across her before he too tried to get some sleep.

When Y/N awoke, she was in her bed back at the Wakandan palace.

She jumped up and quickly moved about to find clothes.

She rushed out of her room so quickly that she even startled her own guard, who quickly muttered into his Kimoyo bracelet that she had returned. Y/N didn’t know who he was talking to, neither did she care.

Y/N only cared about one thing right now.

When she finally arrived at the door, she stared at it for a moment.

She took in a deep and shaky breath. But she finally found the courage to knock.

The door slowly opened and revealed Steve giving her a surprised look from her standing outside his bedroom.

Y/N still wasn’t used to his beard and long hair. It almost made him seem like a stranger.

“Y/N,” Steve gasped in both surprise and relief from seeing that she’d returned from her travels unharmed.

Y/N took a hesitant half-step forward. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Steve whispered back.

Then Y/N couldn’t control herself any longer. She flung herself at Steve, closing the couple of feet left between them.

Steve seemed utterly relieved by the gesture and didn’t miss a beat with wrapping his arms tightly around her. She buried her face into his neck and took in his scent.

Steve didn’t know when he’d be able to let her go again.

-----------------------

Chapter 18

Ehhhhhh??? Let me know what you think. 

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 38: Red Raid

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

I love this chapter, and you’re all gonna hate me after this. I promise, things are better than they seem- i mean, we still have more than twenty chapters to go!

Red Belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block 

Warning: This chapter contains violence, battle scene, mentions of blood, and character death 

Avon cuts Xisuma free of the vines, letting his elytra open up so he can keep some dignity with landing. Keralis and the other hermits quickly explain why they’re at his base, as well as who the strangers are. 

“I knew that portal was tampering with world magic. At the time I was just happy to think that Doc might become another wizard with me. I could always use a helping hand breaking the natural laws.” Xisuma picks some dirt from his helmet, the yellow mask mimicking that of a bee. Antennae flick dirt away, moving independently of the wind billowing from the savanna. “I just can’t believe it still works. That must be one strong portal.” 

“You know Doc. When he does something, he does something right. GOAT, and all that.” Scar waves his hands flippantly. 

“But I assume you three aren’t really interested in the mechanics of world hoppin’, are ya?” X sighs, looking at the wanderers. The group follows him down the white walkway, entering into a hexagonal building. Red gasps, eyes widening to see that it’s filled with bees, bumbling around busily with butts full of pollen. X offers his visitors some tea- of course with lots of honey. 

“We wanted to ask if you knew anything about someone who attacked us.” Avon states, sipping on the warm drink. It’s a comforting taste, practically healing her from inside out. 

“They came through a nether portal. His hair was like fire, flickering and moving like flames. Anywhere he walked, things would smolder or catch fire. And we always smelled brimstone when things happened.” Ecto recounts, pouring her tea out. She’s focused on the mission right now. 

“That definitely sounds like something from the nether, though...I’ll say I’m thoroughly stumped. I’ve been to a lot of worlds, and never heard of these...these hellspawns you’re talking about.” Xisuma shrugs. “A lot of worlds have something unique, or something that is only shared between a few other worlds. Take these bees for example. In the last world we called home, we didn’t have the little buggers.” 

“Do you think this is something only our world has?” Red questions. “Because he...he looked a bit like me. Short, with similar face structure. But completely different.” 

Xisuma hums. “Y’know, the nether is an unusual place. It’s smaller than our world, a parallel dimension to the Overworld. Distance works different there, as does time. It’s a hellscape, but a mimicry of this dimension. Perhaps in mimicking the Overworld, it also mimics the people that call it home.” 

“This is hurting my brain.” Grian whispers, and all three Wanderers nod in agreement. 

“Sheshwamey, didn't Tango do a lot of work in the nether? Didn’t he spend a lot of time there?" Keralis questions. 

“Ah, that’s right. His base a few worlds back was nether inspired. He knows a lot about the nether. ” Xisuma sets down his cup, eyes blinking rapidly as he begins to piece things together. He stands up, so abrupt that it knocks over his chair and spills his tea. “We have to go talk to Tango. Right now. To the Nether portal!” 

The hermits jump to their feet, Mumbo, Grian, and Stress a lot more careful with their tea than the others. Red and Ecto are also quick to stand, following Xisuma up the vines of a tree. But Avon hangs back, nervous. They’re really going to the nether? After just talking about a danger that could be lurking among it? She’s from the End, the exact opposite place. She hates quartz because it’s from the nether, it’s all unnatural for her. It’s only with Ecto and Red’s help are they able to drag Avon into the hell dimension. 

But luckily for Avon, they aren’t really in the nether. They’re atop of it. The hermits step out calmly, searching the radiating lines of carpet, dirt, and glass for Tango’s path. All across the roof of the nether, in the liminal space between dimensions. The eternal heat of hell below their feet still percolates through the bedrock, causing the group to sweat as they walk on the flat surface. But Avon would rather deal with the inferno than all the monsters that call hell home. 

“How���d you guys do this?” Ecto questions, impressed by the unusual form of transportation. She gazes down a small hole in the roof, the bedrock blown apart. Blast marks still mar the grey material. She was sure that bedrock was unbreakable. And yet these hermits manage to do it. Magic? Science? 

“Get high enough into the sky, and you end up standing on the roof of the nether.” Mumbo states.

“I think it was Impulse that was the first to pioneer this in the new world, but I could be wrong.” Iskall pulls on the collar of his hoodie, starting to sweat against the rising heat. 

“Here we go. If this ain’t Tango’s, then it’s definitely one of the other members of ZIT. Either way, we’ll be close enough.” Xisuma motions, holding his hand into the rift like he’s holding open the door. 

“Such a gentleman.” Stress chuckles, hopping into the open portal. She’s quick to escape the confines of the frame, because a minute later it’s packed full of the boys. Swearing and struggling to all get through at once, they are pushed out when the wanderers come crashing in. Stress was starting to wonder if the teleporting would mix bodies at that point. 

The arguing pauses only when a low bugle mutes their voices. “Does...does Tango have a raid farm?” 

“He wouldn’t have one so close to his iron farm, would he?” Iskall rubs his head, having knocked it against Grian’s thick skull. 

Rockets shoot into the sky, the silhouette of a flying person blasting towards space before leveling out. Red eyes, framed by a mess of fiery hair. “Hey! You guys come to join the party?” 

“Tango! We were coming here to ask questions...but it seems you’re busy!” Xisuma calls, already pulling out his sword and strapping on armor. 

“It’s nothing I can’t- gah!” Tango flutters as a crossbow bolt tears a hole through his elytra, grounding him among more than a dozen pillagers. High up, the hermits and wanderers watch as the raid party swarms towards Tango.

Grian is the first to leap from the platform. “I call the evokers!” 

Everyone else jumps after, even Ecto. Despite being wingless, she manages to survive the fall. And that leaves Red at the top, biting her nails as the battle rages beneath her. She shrugs off her backpack, leaving it at the entrance of the portal. Leaving Fred safe from harm. She’s always stayed far away from pillagers. Most creatures that live in the overworld want no quarrel, even creepers just want to be left alone most of the time.

But not pillagers. They thrive off of the pain of others. Evoker magic is a dark art, relying on the death of others to fuel their spells. Selene told Red that the scholar she learned magic from was raided by pillagers. Any spellbook that they deemed worthy was stolen back to their mansion. The rest was burned. 

Red’s instincts say to stay far away from the raid below, to let the warriors take care of the swarm of illagers. To stay out of their way, out of trouble. But Red grimaces as Ecto barely escapes the fangs, snapping from the ground and ripping at her scarf. He needs to get into the fight, to be helpful. To not be useless. He may not be able to fight, but maybe he can help with distracting the attackers, or bring potions between those that need it. Even Scar, the worst hermit combatant, is in the midst of aiding Tango with ravager wrangling. He should help. 

Avon throws her trident into the tough hide of a ravager, ducking under the iron hatchet swinging for her neck. She kicks the vindicator into Ecto’s awaiting blade. The two may bicker and train by fighting each other, but when it comes to being on the same side they are a masterful team. While Avon waits for her trident to return to her hand, Ecto glances across the battle. “Avon! Red’s falling!” 

At the mere mention of their friend, Avon takes to the sky. Red’s tucked into a small ball, protecting his head from the ground below. The two let out a  simultaneous groan as they collide, Avon’s fingers grabbing onto Red’s vest and landing them both on the ground. “What are you doing?”

“I came to help! Maybe I can kite the pillagers into traps? Or hand out potions and food?” Red winces as Avon raises her wings like a curtain, stopping vex from reaching Red. Iskall leaps from a tree, spearing three of the summoned spirits with a single arrow. 

“You don’t even have a weapon! What if they attack you?” Ecto hisses, retreating behind Avon’s wings. Avon turns, finally grabbing her trident only to throw it back into the mix. Hopefully, it will hit a few raiders on the way out as well as the way back. 

“I’m small! I’ll be fine.” Red squeeze between Ecto and Avon, charging into battle with an armful of food stolen from Mumbo’s farms. She slips between the legs of a ravager and the flanks of vindicators, tossing the heated spuds to the hermits in battle. She yelps as an axe comes terrifyingly close to hitting her, but manages to dodge away with less than a scratch. 

Ecto and Avon can only continue to battle, and keep watch of their friend. Try to stay as close as possible in case Red needs help. But he’s holding his own. His small stature is just under axe swinging height, and he’s creative enough to find passages through the battle no one else would think of. 

“Scar! Take some potions!” Red croons, holding up a bottle of regeneration swiped from Mumbo’s base. 

“Thanks, little fish!” Scar chuckles, removing the stopper and chugging the ambrosia. “Whoa, watch out!” Scar shoots an arrow, downing a vex from hurting Red. He’s not about to let them get a bad rep among any more of his friends. 

Red smiles, and scampers away. Towards Keralis, holding his own against not one but two ravagers. For such a sweet, shocked face, he’s quite the warrior when he wants to be. Red’s path becomes blocked, grey skin and severe vest of a vindicator between her and her friends. The malicious face only grins at the sight of an easy kill. He laughs, and raises his axe to kill the kipling. 

“Red! No!” Ecto screams, running down a pillager and stumbling through the crowd of fighters. One moment, she sees the glimmer of the sunlight against the iron blade. Her vision is blocked by a ravager, chasing after Tango as he kites it towards a mine trap. And when she looks again, the axe has fallen. 

The hatchet lays useless in the grass, metal dirty but not bloody. The vindicator’s arm is still raised, but he’s frozen. Quite literally. Across the field, water has solidified into ice, capturing a number of illagers within it’s cold grasp. And completely encasing the one about to kill Red. Relief floods across Ecto, and Avon above banks to congratulate Red. For standing up for himself.

Red rises to his feet, brushing off the dirt on his trousers. “I told you I could handle on my-”

The world stops with Red’s voice. The sounds of battle die back for all the wanderers, the only ones who see the sudden charge. Across the plain, Ecto and Avon can hear the ragged breath escape Red’s lips. From over Red’s shoulder, a pillager lowers his crossbow, the cables still humming with release. 

Red’s face doesn’t quite register what she feels. Eyes gaze across the battlefield, to her friends. Hurt, but standing. She sinks to her knees, gasping for a breath but still strung with shock. A blank face, even as a shaking hand reaches up to grasp the tip of the bolt. Red finally looks down, seeing the metal tip protruding from her chest. A perfect hit, blood blossoming like a poppy across her vest. He can taste metal in his mouth again, lips turning a new shade with each breath out. The color of Red’s name. 

Avon and Ecto scramble to reach Red, anything to cross the distance between them and their friend. But no matter what they do, no matter how fast they reach him. It’s already too late. Red is gone by the time Avon crashes into the ground. Gone from life. 

And gone from the battle. All that’s left is the bolt, bloody and broken.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 1

So this can be seen as either a companion piece to I Found (my first and still on going Tyler Rake/OC fan fic) or a sequel. It works either way lol.   I decided to work outside of the box and do more fluffy/soft/cute Tyler mixed in with his edge ;)    So this will be multi chapter and include everything from fluff, angst, drama, love, suspense, you name it. 

If you’d like to be tagged, please just let me know. I love comments, messages, you name it!

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y  @alievans007  @hemmyworthy  @valkyrie-of-the-light

FIVE YEARS LATER

 He listens to the sound of life...his life...drifting up from the floor below. Hands behind  his head, eyes closed, the cotton sheets cool against his skin. Trying to squeeze in that extra bit of sleep despite the noise:  incessant high pitched giggling, some squabbling and name calling, the occasional ear piercing shriek. Outside the dog is whining to be let back in the house; not wanting to miss out on the action and the endless attention and treats the kids toss its way. A two year old German Shepherd that one of his son's had...much to the chagrin of everyone else in the house...named Macaroni. Mac for short. Further back on the property, in a safely fenced off area, chickens cluck and squawk within their pen as two goats tend to making sure their area is free of weeds and any left over food.

 It's a simple existence. A four bedroom farm house in Telluride, Colorado that had taken three years to fully renovate. A mixture of white wood siding and red brick; old fashioned touches like claw foot tables and a storm cellar, along with the newer and more modern amenities: a home gym and fully finished basement with its own entrance, kitchen, living space, bedroom and bathroom. Pushed four hundred meters from the road, there's enough land for a decent sized hobby farm; the chickens and goats, three separate vegetable gardens, an above ground pool and tons of free space for the kids to play. There's a creek at the very back; running horizontally at the edge of their property line, a common meeting ground for deer, fox, and other wildlife. And the one thing that had truly sold them on the place -when it had been nothing more than a rotted old place that looked as if it should be bulldozed to the ground- a view of the snow capped mountains.  A far cry from the sand and surf of Australia, but a paradise in its own right.

 “Okay...boys...boys...you need to take it down a notch...”  his wife's voice, a hint of exasperation in her tone. “..why are you like this? Please just go and sit down and do something quiet for five minutes so I can get breakfast started. Why do you have to act like wild banshees the moment your eyes open?”

 “Maybe daddy's up,” one of the twins-Tyler Junior's voice. Or TJ as he's affectionately known to everyone in his life. He's the taller of the two: sharing his father's height and naturally broad shoulders, along with the same texture and colour of hair and brilliant blue eyes. He's the wilder of the two. Loud and boisterous. Fearless. To a fault.

 “Can we go check?” Tanner now. Smaller and slighter than his older (by a mere six minutes) brother. With slightly darker hair than his siblings, and his mother's build and smile and the freckles splashed across the bridge of his noise. He's the quiet, introspective one. An old soul trapped in such a young body.

 “You two get down from there,” Esme hisses from the bottom of the stairs. “No going up there. Daddy is asleep. He's tired. Do you want me to throw you out there with the chickens and the goats? Because I will. I swear to God I will.”

 He smirks at that.

 “Maybe he's awake,” Millie pipes up. Even more hopeful than her younger brother. She's a daddy's girl. Through and through. Has been since the moment she made her entrance into the world and had been placed in his arms, her entire fist closing around one of his fingers.

 “I said no. Now all three of you get down here right now. Daddy didn't get in until late last night. He's had a very busy two weeks and he needs to sleep. Are any of you even listening to me right now? Are you feral?”

 Tyler actually laughs out loud at that.

 The kids have extremely keen ears, and their mother's patience is already running low, and now he can hear the pounding of little feet against the wooden stairs as they seize the opportunity and make their move. And he's just manage to slip into a pair of sweats and climb back into bed when the door is being thrown open. The twins collide with either side of the door frame; causing the human equivalent of a three car pile up.  And they decide to just throw down right there and then; head locks and elbows to the face as they fight over who actually gets to enter the room first.

 Millie takes charge, and with a roll of the eyes, simply shoves them both out of the way. She's tall and slender for only five. With unruly light brown hair and blue eyes that are always filled with both mischief and curiosity. A healthy mix of tomboy and girly girl: a room filled with both dolls and action figures. She enjoyed both tea parties and dress up but could turn around and climb trees and roll around in the dirt in the blink of an eye.

 All three jump onto the bed to greet him and he finds himself tackled by the lot of them. Letting them push him down onto his back; a tickle fight immediately ensuing, followed by a wrestling match. They all love to rough house. Even Tanner, who is smart and compassionate like his mother but could lay an ass kicking on his bigger twin. They're tough kids. Both physically and mentally.

 “I gotta pee!” Tanner announces, as he slides across the bed on his butt, jumps off and scurries from the room.

 His brother takes it as a chance to catch him unaware, and in less than a minute they're in the middle of the hallway, rolling around on the ground fighting. It will end the way it always does. Tears. Maybe a black eye or a split lip. If left to their own defences, they'd spend a half an hour beating the hell out of each other followed by a quarter of the day declaring they hate one other. Then they'd forget about why they were even mad and once again join forces to wreak havoc.

 ****

Millie crawls across the bed and plops down onto her side, snuggling into him. Nestling her head underneath his chin, one of her hands on his shoulder. And he drops a kiss on her hair and wrapping an arm around her, pulls her close. Once again closing his eyes, enjoying a few extra moments of relaxation. Until she's moving against him and her tiny fingers are attempting to pry his eyes open.

 “Wake up daddy,” her hand moves to his beard, giggling as she rubs her palm against it.  “It's time to get up.”

 “What if I don't want to?”

 “It's breakfast,” she announces, and she's at his eyes again, growing frustrated as he screws them shut even tighter. “Daddy...” she grumbles. “...don't be such a boy.”

 “I am a boy,” he reminds her.

 “It doesn't mean you have to give me a hard time like the rest of them.”

 Tyler grins. “You sounded so much like your mother just now.”

 “Smart like mommy, cute like daddy,” she declares.

 “Atta girl. You know what's up.”  He opens his eyes: bright blue meeting bright blue.

 “Hi!” she chirps, and leans in so they can rub the tips of their noses together. It's their 'special thing'. Something he'd taught her shortly after her second birthday. And she refuses to share it with her brothers.

 “Hi.”

 “I missed you, daddy.”

 He will never grow tired of hearing that word. Or the way it makes him feel. How it fills him with a sense of accomplishment. That someone like him...with all the monsters in his closet and all the battles he's fought ...could both make and deserve something so perfect.

 “How could you miss me? You were still up when I got home. I tucked you in. Read you a story. Five of them to be exact.”

 “I missed you while I was sleeping,” she says, and fiddles with the chain around his neck.

 He'd been gone for two weeks this time; helping Nik with a handful of  simple 'in and out' extractions throughout central and south America. Returning with little more than a couple of bruised ribs, scrapped up knuckles, and a small gash above his right eye. He only takes the easy jobs now. He has way too much to lose. A wife and kids. Even his own side business: home renovations and handyman work.  A way having steady cash flow and being able to get food on the table, the bills paid, and keep a roof of over their heads.

 She is investigating the cut above his eye now. It hadn't been deep enough for stitches, but the skin around it was starting to swell and turn a vivid purple. Millie had lost it when she'd seen his injuries; crying like she'd never cried before. The only thing calming her down had been a bowl of ice cream and those five stories he'd been suckered into.  

 “You were gone a long time,” she pouts.

 “Too long,” he agrees.

 “Did you miss me?”

 “Of course I did. Didn't I call you every night when I was gone? I missed you very much. And your mommy. And your brothers.”

 “But not as much as you missed me, right? Because I'm your favourite.”

 “I love all of you the same. I don't have any favourites.”

 She pulls back, taking his face in her tiny hands. “Just tell me, daddy. I can keep a secret.”

 It feels like a lifetime ago when she was just a tiny baby that he could carry around in one hand. Now she's in kindergarten, taking gymnastics, enrolled in martial arts, and willing try any sport that tickles her fancy. Sometimes he misses the old days. Getting up in the middle of the night to tend to her, feeling that tiny body just melt into his, smelling that powdery, fresh scent that clung to her hair and clothes. She's a daddy's girl. Always has been. And there's no sign of that changing any time soon.

 He hopes it never does.

 “Daddy?”

 His eyes are closed again. Relishing the precious and all too fleeting moments with his first born. His only daughter.  “Yeah?”

 “I love you,” she announces, and it nearly brings tears to Tyler's eyes. She is so innocent and so pure, as is her blind faith and trust in him. She has no clue of what his other job entails. Just that he goes a way a lot and she hates it. And sometimes he comes back with cuts and bruises and the occasional broken bone.

 It's his number one fear: what will happen when she gets older and she learns just what he's been up to all these years. He worries it will change how she looks at him. Right now she adores and idolizes him; there's no problem that daddy can't fix, no toy he can't repair, no monster he can't chase away. Soon that will end. She'll grow out of that and their relationship will be different. And he worries that the truth and the monsters and demons of his past will drive her away.

 He tightens his hold on her. Drops a kiss on the top of her head.

 “I love you too.”

 ****

 His family is gathered in the kitchen. The smell of pancakes, eggs, and sausage hanging heavily in the air as google home mini perched on a nearby counte rtop plays the current and most popular music. Tanner scurries back and forth between cupboards and table as he happily and dutifully finishes setting places for his mother. The baby in his high chair; ten months old, a lock of strawberry blond hair falling across his forehead, brilliant blue eyes focused intently on scooping  the selection of dry cheerios and slices of banana on the tray in front of him. Declan is long and lanky like Millie and TJ. Feisty and mischievous at even such a tender age.  The genes run strong in the Rake family. Never a doubt to strangers on the street that those four came from the same mom and dad. Especially the latter.  Their appearances strikingly similar; both physical and in their mannerisms and facial expressions.

 “Help your brother,” Tyler instructs his daughter, placing her on the ground. “And no fighting over who gets what colour cup or what spoon.” 

They were only eleven months apart and while incredibly close and nine times out of ten the best of friends, they loved to scrap. Their little pissing matches often turning physical. But Mille is strong and clever and never backs down from a challenge.

 He joins his wife at the counter where she stands dishing food out onto plates. His hands coming to rest on her shoulders, then sliding down her arms and coming to rest on her hips. They’re wider now; she’s had four children after all. His children. Yet she is still firm and tone in some places, soft and more curvaceous in others.  Her hair is shorter; skimming the tops of her shoulders, wispy bangs over her forehead. She is beautiful even first thing in the morning; a wide headband holding her hair away from her face, clad in a pair of simple black leggings and one of his t-shirts. And he leans into her, eyes closed as he breathes in the soft scent that lingers in her hair.

 “Good morning,” his lips are against her ear, hands tightening on her hips as she pulls her back against him.

  He feels her shudder against him and he smiles as he presses a kiss to her cheek. He had heard that once children came into the picture, a lot of women lost some, if not all, desire for sex. They were tired. Physically and emotionally. But not his wife. In fact, it had seemed to heighten her need for it even more. She’s always been insatiable; right from the very beginning of their relationship. The only woman he’d ever known -including his first wife- whose sexual appetite almost matched his. Last night she’d been especially in the mood; pouncing on him the second he walked into their bedroom. And then  proceeding to wake him up twice in the middle of the night with no so gentle demands that he make love to her.

 Who was he to say no?”

 “Good morning,” she tilts her head back and smiles up at him “Did you sleep okay? I’m sorry the kids were so loud and woke you up.  They were excited you were home.”

 “They only woke me up once. You woke me up twice,” he teases, grinning when she blushes, and presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “By the way…” he places his lips against her ear once again, and presses his groin against her ass. “…you were incredible.”

 Her blush deepens, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

 “You definitely were not complaining,” he chides, and then kisses her cheek. Behind them, TJ makes a very distinct gagging noise.  “One day you’re going like kissing girls,” he informs his son, as he leans back against the counter and accepts a mug of steaming black coffee from his wife.

 “Never,” the little boy declares.  “Girls are gross.”

 “Your mommy isn’t gross,” Tyler points out. “Far from it. Daddy thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. One day you’ll find a girl that you feel the same way about.”

 “Nope,” his namesake remains steadfast. “Never. Ever. Girls that aren’t mommy are nasty. And kissing is gross. Just…ughhh…” his nose crinkles in disgusts as he shudders dramatically.  Definitely his mother’s son with that little display.

 “Kissing is where babies come from,” Mille announces, as she scrambles into her seat at the table.

 “Well there’s a little more to it than that,” he says, and Esme digs her elbow into his ribs and shakes her his. “Well there is.”

 “Like what?” Millie inquires. “Kissing and what?”

 “Kissing and things,” her mother replies. “Things you don’t need to know about until you’re older. Much older.”

 “How much older?” the five year old isn’t giving up that easily.

 “When you’re thirty and your father finally lets you go out on a date.”

 “Thirty!” Mille squeals. “That’s old as shit!”

 “”Hey!” Tyler admonishes. “None of that. Only mommy says that word. She invented bad words like that.”

 “Yeah…” Esme snorts.  “…way back when the Pony Express still delivered mail.”

 “I think you made the F word, daddy,” Tanner says, and his twin giggles beside him.

 “Someone needs to watch their language when little ears are around,” Esme scolds, and hands him a cold plate of eggs and pancake for the paper.

 “You might get your mouth washed out with soap,” TJ adds. “That’s what grandma says she used to do to Uncle Mike when he was little and swore like a drunken sailor.”

 “Thirty is really old,” Millie muses dramatically, as she tucks her hair behind her ears.  

 “Your mother was being generous,” Tyler says. “I was thinking more like forty.”

 “Daddy, that’s mean. You can’t boys away from me that long.”

 “Don’t say that him,” Esme pipes up. “He’s going to take that as a challenge.”

 “She can date, but I’m sitting on the front porch with a gun in my lap until she gets home,” he vows, and his wife rolls her eyes and begins carrying plates of food to the table, leaving an extra on the counter.

 The baby squeals happily when Tyler steps up beside the high chair and reaches up for him with dirty hands. Fists repeatedly opening and closing in a request to be picked.

 “Mate…” he sighs, as he takes in the state of his youngest. Banana smashed into oblivious, smeared into his hair.  “…why do you have to do this to me? What kind of mess did you go and make? Your son tried to shampoo his hair with his banana,” he informs his wife. “Look at him. He’s a bloody wreck.”

 “How come he’s only my son when he’s bad?” she smirks, and tosses him a package of baby wipes.

 “Because the bad genes come from you,” he states, and then uses the wipes to clean the baby’s face, hair, and hands before unbuckling him and lifting him from the seat. Little arms curling around his neck, a face nuzzling into his shoulder. “Here we go, mate, here we go,” he says, and then slides into his chair. “Time to eat. Time to get big and strong so that you can kick some ass when you get older.”

 “Really, Tyler?” Esme sighs. “Really?”

 “Daddy said ass,” TJ giggles, and soon he and his brother are dissolving into hysterics and making fart jokes. Their sister rolling her eyes and giving them hell for being so rude.

 Just another day in paradise.

 ****

  “Well…well…well…” Esme grins.  “…it lives. Long enough to emerge from it’s dungeon to eat.”

 There’s a slight blush to Ovi’s cheeks as he enters the room, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he lays a hand on her shoulder and presses a kiss to his cheek. She may not be the woman that carried him for nine months and given birth to him, but she was very much his mother. Spending the last five years making sure he was well taken care of; nurtured, shown affection, encouraged to enjoy the simple things that came with a quieter existence. And he may not use the word, but he feels it in his heart. And he knows she does too.

 He’s much taller now; half an inch shy of Tyler’s six foot three frame. He’s not as muscular and powerful as the man he considers his father, but is tall and athletic; a sinewy, well toned body from all the hours he’s spent lifting weights,  helping out on their little hobby farm, and accompanying Tyler to his reno and handy man jobs. And while he lives in the apartment in the basement, he never misses a meal with the family. He craves the togetherness; the conversations and the jokes and hearing the kids giggling and playing.

 He snags the plate of food off the counter and heats it in the microwave, then slips into the chair to Tyler’s left. “What time did you get back?” he inquires, as Esme moves to fill his empty glass from a pitcher of orange juice on the table.

 “Around nine.”

 “That was a long one,” he remarks, and Esme nods in agreement.

 She has gotten used to his time away, but still doesn’t like it. It’s cold and lonely in the middle of the night and sleep rarely comes; too many worries about where he is and if he’s okay.

 “What happened here?” Ovi gestures to the area above his own eye.

 “Just a little mix up with someone that wasn’t too happy with me. Nothing serious. Where were you? The car was gone when I got home.”

 He’d been the one that had taught the kid to drive; taking him on back country roads in a beater pick up truck that they’d picked up for cheap.  Ovi’s come a long way in five years; physically and mentally. He’s no longer plagued by the vivid nightmares of what had happened in Dhaka or how’d he’d killed Gaspar to save  Tyler’s life, and essentially, his own.  He had thrived in the public school system and quickly and effortlessly made friends.  Joined the swim team. Ran track and field. Tried his hand at football. He had decided to take a year off from pursuing a higher education; electing to busy himself on the farm and learning how to use power tools, sweating under the weight of hard, manual labour.

 “Ovi had a date,” Millie sing songs. “With a girl.”

 He reaches across the table to tousle her hair, and she gives that musical little giggle.  

 “It wasn’t a date,” he says.  “I was helping her study.”

 “Yeah…” Tyler smirks as the sips his coffee. “…it was studying.”

 “Right…” Esme grins from across the table. “…studying. I was a teenager once. I know what studying is code language for. Tyler and I like to study together. He’s actually an excellent tutor.”

 “Which is why we have four kids,” he adds.

 “I am never going to study,” TJ declares, causing the adults to laugh.

 “Oh boy child…” his mother sighs. “…you are in for one heck of a rude awakening when you get older. No kissing and no studying? Come back and talk to me when you’re fourteen.”

 “You’ll like studying,” Tyler says. “Even by yourself. It’s not as fun as when you study with someone else, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”

 Ovi laughs, nearly choking on a mouthful of orange juice.

 “Excuse me,” Esme directs a kick to his shin under the table. “When was the last time you actually had to study alone?”

 “I was just gone for two weeks,” he reminds her.  “Just because you wanted to study together when I got back doesn’t mean I didn’t have to study by myself while I was away. Go that long without studying? I haven’t gone that long without studying since I was fifteen.”

 She holds a hand up to silence him. “Okay that last part is just way too much information.”

 “Sometimes you have to study alone,” he continues with a shrug. “Because your study partner is tired. Or they feel sick Or they have a headache. Study partners get headaches a lot.”

 She kicks him under the table to get his attention, then mouths: “I will kill you in your sleep.”

 He shoots her a grin and a wink, reaching out with his foot in order to run his toes over her instep, along her shin, and then around to the hell.

 At first she glares at him, glass against her lips, then gives a smirk and places her other foot in his lap. Causing him to clear his throat noisily and shift in his seat when she presses her toes into his crotch. But he doesn’t make her stop.

 “So what’s her name? Esme asks. “This study partner of yours?”

 “Chloe.”

 “Oooo that’s pretty!” Mille gushes. “That’s a princess name. Is she pretty like a princess?”

 “She is,” he confirms, but then reaches across the table to tousle her hair. “But not as pretty as you.”

 “How’d you meet her?”  Tyler asks, his hand slipping below the table to push his wife’s foot out of his crotch. The last thing he needed was to get up from the breakfast table with a raging hard on. He is almost forty one now, but she still has a way of making him feel like a horny teenager.

 Esme pouts dramatically, then goes back to her breakfast. Foot now on his thigh, his fingers massaging at the bases of her toes.

 “The internet,” Ovi sheepishly admits.

 Tyler groans. Jesus , mate. We talked about this. We’ve been talking about this for five years now. No social media. It’s too easy for people to find you on there and track you down.”

 “I’m being really careful,” he insists. “My security settings are really high. I don’t use my real name. Esme has a facebook.”

 “With only her family on it. It’s not the same thing. How’d you end up randomly meeting her online in the first place? Don’t tell me you did something creepy like sending her a message out of nowhere because you thought she looked cute.”

 “It was a group. For single people in Colorado.”

 “Oh for fuck sakes,” Tyler mutters, much to the chagrin of the kids; the twins giggling and telling he was going to get his mouth washed out with soap and Millie who immediately scrambling for the ‘swear jar’ that sits on the counter by the stove. Informing him that he knows five bucks because it was a ‘really, really, really bad word’.   “Why would you go on something like that? I get being lonely and wanting to meet girls, but for Christ sakes, mate.”

 “I wasn’t thinking, I guess. I just wanted to meet new people and talk to them. I wasn’t really planning on meeting anyone. I was just wanting  to talk.”

 He’s had a handful of girlfriends in high school. Nice, down home kind of girls that came from decent families and seemed to have no secrets in their closets. Tyler had made sure of it: giving their names and addresses to Nik so she would do a little digging. Everything had come back clean, thankfully. But it was better to be safe than sorry, especially with kids in the house.

 “How much do you even know about this girl?”

 “Enough.”

 Tyler arches both brows, waiting for a better response.

 “We’ve been talking for a little while,” he admits. “A few weeks now. She lives in Butte. So when we wanted to meet in person, we agreed to drive hallway and meet in the middle.”

 “How old is she?” Tyler presses. “What does she do for a living?”

 “Twenty three.”

 Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the way his wife’s widen at the revelation. There’s almost five full years between them and while that had never stopped them, it seemed a little wrong when it was a nineteen year old boy being pursued by an older woman.

 “She teaches in a day care,” Ovi continues. “So she’d fit in really well around here. She loves kids and you guys have a lot of them, so…”

 “I wanna met her,” Mille decides, and her brothers join in.

 “You can’t just bring strangers to the house,” Esme speaks up.  “You know that’s one of the big rules. We can’t just have anyone and everyone walking through the front door. How much do you really know about her other than her name, age, and what she does for a living? Do you know anything about her friends? Her family? Her background?”

 “I can always get Nik to run a check on her,” Tyler suggests. “I mean, if he really wants to see this girl…”

 “Still doesn’t mean I want a stranger coming to my bouse. Being around my kids.  Wasn’t that we agreed on about five years ago? When we moved here and I was having the twins? That we wouldn’t take the chance of just letting someone walk through the door? There’s always a chance, remember? That someone is looking for us. Those are your exact words.”

 “But if I get Nik to do a background check, we’ll get some answers. If nothing comes up, great. He can see the girl. If someone comes up, then he doesn’t. You wouldn’t, right?” he looks at Ovi. “See her if something came up?”

 “No! I would never do anything like that! I’d never bring someone like that around here.  I just want the chance to get to know her. That’s all. She’s really nice and really pretty and I think you guys would like her.:

 “I’m going to like her,” Millie chimes in. “I already do. If she’s good enough for my Ovi, she’s good enough for me.”

 “Pound it…” he says to her, as he holds out a fist and she enthusiastically responds. “…now blow it up.”

 They’ve always been close. Right from the moment they’d brought her as a baby to the Mahajan house five years ago. It was the first infant he’d ever had contact with and he’d been immediately smitten; mesmerized by the little sounds she made, how she would look up at him with those big blue or wrap her entire fist around one of his fingers. And when he wasn’t holding or begging to hold her, he was playing the piano for her; having her in the car seat on the floor next to him while he entertained her with his favourite songs. As she grew older, she’d always referred to him as ‘my Ovi’. Sometime she’s even called him her brother, and when people tried to point out it wasn’t physically possible that they were related in any way, she’d argue that ‘Christmas presents aren’t always in the same wrapping paper and neither are people’.

 Pretty wise for a five year old.

 “It won’t hurt to take a look at her,” Tyler attempts to reason with his wife “What’s the worst that can happen? We see something we don’t like in her background and he cuts ties with her. That’s it. No harm, no foul.”

 She’s become increasingly paranoid with each baby they’ve brought into the world. Always worried that there was someone out there just waiting to trample on the happiness that they had managed to find. And when he’d gotten back into the job without consulting her first, the worry became obsessive and all consuming.

  And there was also some lingering animosity towards him on her part; that he’d willingly go back into a profession that put a target on not only his back, but hers and the kids as well. He no longer saw it that way; he was more than capable of protecting his family and there were others -like Nik, Yaz, and the rest of the team- that would help them out no questions asked. Besides, the jobs he took were considered low on the scale of risk when it came to severe injury or death.

 “If nothing comes back and she’s totally clean, there’s no reason why she can’t come around,” he adds, and gives her foot a squeeze. “You know I’m not going to just let a stranger walk up in here. I wouldn’t take that chance. So I’ll get Nik to look her up. The kid does deserve to have a life. Isn’t that we brought him along with us in the first place?”

 Sighing heavily, she uses her fork to push the remains of her food around her plate.

 “Nothing is going to happen,” he assures her. “We do things this way, there’s no chance of something going wrong. Let’s at least give the girl a chance, yeah?”

 “As long as you promise to have Nik look into her. And as long as you…” she trains her gaze on Ovi.  “…promise me you won’t bring her here until Tyler find outs about her. I’m serious, Ovi. I can’t have some random off the street getting near my kids. I just can’t.”

 “I won’t,” he vows. “I’d never do something like that.”

 Giving a small smile, she nods and then pushes her chair away from the table and begins tidying up the dirty plates and utensils, instructing the kids to run upstairs and get cleaned up and dressed.

 “Is she okay?” Ovi asks. “She seems a little….mad.”

 “I think she’s a bit pissed at me. I was only supposed to be gone four days and it ended up turning into two weeks. It’s hard on her. Being home alone all that time with the kids. This job was supposed to be easy and it turned into a real shit show instead. Definitely not what I thought I was walking into.”

 “Well at least you’re alive, right? You’re home. At least you’re still here.”

 “That’s all that matters, mate. Dragging myself through that front door. As long as I get home to my wife and my kids, it’s a good day.”

 As long as he wasn’t being brought home in a body bag.

[alicepink-me]

The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 10: Sparring

Day 2:

Marinette was completely passed out in her bed. Her physical days start a lot later than the educational ones and three to four extra hours of sleep is well appreciated. Some much history yesterday that she could easily sleep all day today. She's lucky they didn't add beginner fighting and martial arts classes to her schedule. They said since Marinette's already been Ladybug for years, she's basically passed that level. So now there's the basic twice a day miraculous group training and they added a single class at the end of the day for guardian training.

Marinette weirdly felt something touch her nose. She twitched in her sleep, squeezing her eyes tighter. She felt it again and her eyes shot open to see two green ones staring back at her.

"Cat!" Marinette shot up, surprised by a long haired, fluffy, black cat in her lap. She panted, her heart racing as she turned to her roommate who was still in bed.

"Oh that's Jenn." April announced, flipping a page in her book.

"You have a cat? How did I not know you have a cat; I live here?" Marinette slid to the edge of her bed, holding the friendly fur ball.

"I always compel her to stay away from guests for the first day they appear or until I command her otherwise." April stated, looking back to her book.

"How did you compel her?" Marinette asked. "Is that your miraculous or something?"

"Yeah. I can compel people." Jenn jumped over to April. "I had to request it from my teacher though since, well they probably didn't tell you since they'd love to watch you slip up, but we aren't allowed to use our miraculous outside of class. It's a very strict policy that would result in expulsion if they aren't followed. There are regulations and students shouldn't possess that much power, especially outside of class. If they do not learn that discipline now, they don't deserve that power later."

"Well they definitely didn't tell me that." Marinette said. "The only reason I didn't use mine was because I didn't want to face my kwami, but I guess I'll have to today."

"It's good practice." April continued. "The day I compelled Jenn, I learned how to compel nonhuman beings, or at least some of them. So if you ever get chased by a bear and nearly die, I'm your go to friend to have."

"Okay, I'll try to remember that." Marinette laughed. "I'll think of that next time Ladybug has to fight someone, if I survive all of my classes today."

"At least your group is more power based. Mine is more often quiet and intimidating." April pet the cat. "My classmates could more easily be supervillains."

"Really?" Marinette slid out of her covers. "How are these groups even decided? Seems you know more about mine than I do."

"Once students turn fourteen, the temple decides their path afterwards based on their skillset and strengths. Different groups qualify for certain miraculouses. That girl, Ginger, that you fought in Paris, was placed in an artistic group early on and that aided her future pollen powers. She enjoyed and excelled at drawing, so an artistic miraculous was preferred for her." April explained. "I was chosen for a sociology/psychology type because I am apparently excellent at understanding people, which explains why my power relates to brain function and memory."

"So what's my group about?"

"Well I haven't seen your schedule, but Rebekah has already slipped a few rumors and I heard you're in a power based class." April rolled her eyes. "Your class would be set up for leading miraculous holders, such as you and Chat Noir. Every Miracle Box has a center triple, duo or single miraculous that leads or connects the others in battle. The leaders compliment each other, but if they go down in battle, their team could face major peril and horror. Your group spends class sparing and analyzing attacks like everyone else, but they put in mind a team. You will have team scenarios, group sparing, and investigation strategies. You'll strengthen your powers and become a leader."

"Okay, that explains my class, but what's this about Rebekah?" Marinette looked confused. "She's spreading rumors?"

"Like fire."

"She seemed so nice."

"Nah, Rebekah spews most of the rumors at this academy since she's the entire welcoming comittee. She gets all the inside info and has strong ties with the council, so she's the go-to person if you need to know something." April sighed. "But Rebekah has it out for me so she may make your experience a little harder for you to deal with."

"Oh, what did you do?" Marinette smiled.

"I'll have you know I am a very nice person, so don't think I tormented her or something." April said, moving Jenn and hopping off the bed. "Rebekah is the runner up for my miraculous. If I die or turn bad for some reason, my power is passed on to her." April opened her closet and slid her book on the top shelf. "There are around a hundred students of each age and very few gain a miraculous when they finish their courses. Many drop before they get that farm but the ones that aren't chosen for a miraculous, are sent out to the real world to either give up or wait on standby. They can be used for information around the world or as backups." Marinette was about to say something, but April stopped her. "I had a high number of twelve students receive a miraculous in my graduating class. Rebekah was furious that she wasn't one of them and was embarrassed to be labeled a backup, so instead of leaving, she stayed and got a job here as the tour guide/welcoming committee in order to keep an eye on me. Rebekah is practically breathing down my neck, even if she denies it, just so that she can be the first one to see me slip up and she can be the first one to report it to council. And then she'll pray for my expulsion."

"Wow." Marinette's eyes widened.

"They're all a bunch of snakes here." April said, closing her closet. "What did you expect? This temple breeds competition."

"I thought you read my diary?" She chuckled. "You should know by now that I didn't think any of this through." Marinette picked up her alarm clock and sighed. She looked back at Jenn and set the clock down. "I have an hour and forty five minutes left to sleep and now that I know you have a cat, hopefully there won't be anymore surprises." Marinette grabbed her covers and threw them over her head.

. . .

"Okay, this is your day 2 class." Rebekah smiled, turning around. The two stopped at a door. It was a lot quieter than the history classes. Maybe it was class size or maturity. Marinette didn't know whether to be happy or afraid. "After your morning class, you'll return here later at two o'clock. And since my job as your temple tour guide is officially finished, I believe this is goodbye for now." Rebekah wiped a fake tear. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah." Marinette rolled her eyes before she saw. Knowing that Rebekah's spreading rumors made their interactions a lot more awkward. "I should go inside now."

Marinette pretended to smile and turned away, stepping inside. The room felt cold and still. She looked around to see fifteen other people all around the room, stretching. One girl did a backbend while another guy did a handstand. The room was black with a large window on one side, showing the mountain view. The students seemed like ballerinas and a little dramatic with their stretching. Their stares burnt holes in her skin. Good thing April had advised Marinette to wear gym clothes. She opted for gray leggings and a black tank top. Marinette set her purse down in one corner and slid to the floor. She tried to blend in as she stretched but the others still watched from the corners of their eyes. They all seemed like aggressive try hards. One girl fell into a split, emotionless.

"No need to worry. I made it everyone." A women said, walking in with a large iced coffee. She wore black rimmed glasses and a button up shirt with a long cardigan. Her hair was in a messy bun. "The line was extra long this morning." She sipped her coffee.

The class looked up for a second, but didn't acknowledge her. They expressionlessly sat up from their stretches, slowly paying attention.

The woman checked her bag. "So for today's sparring lesson I've brought some things to make it a little more interesting, but . . . " She looked up and smiled. "We have a new student." Every head turned to Marinette as her eyes widened. "Now Marinette, you can call me Ms. Fell." Marinette thought she'd die. Everyone was staring at her. She thought she could sneak by, but not if the teacher calls her out. "Before I get into a new lesson, I want to have some of my students demonstrate some of the basics that we cover and then I'll give you a chance at a free spare."

"Thanks." Marinette said awkwardly.

"Great." Ms. Fell smiled before turning to the other side. "Damon and Clove, you two can start us off."

Two students stood and moved to the center of the room. They each took a deep breath before quickly forming a fighting stance, their eyes focusing. Their demeanors changed, emitting hostility. Clove threw the first punch, Damon catching it before twisting in behind her. Clove kicked him in the jaw causing him to let go as she landed in a hand stand. Damon fell to the ground but swiped his legs under her. Clove hopped up in time, returning to a stand. Damon stood as well, rubbing his jaw. The two circled each other.

"Find a weak spot." Ms. Fell said, walking next to them. "Look for an opening, even small."

Damon darted forward and punched Clove in the stomach. Marinette's eyes widened. These students were viscous. They could kill each other. Damon shifted behind Clove and pulled her ponytail, dragging her towards the floor. Clove winced in pain, but quickly shook it off. She leaned into his motion and did a backbend. Her hair tie fell to the ground, waving her hair loose. She lifted her legs into a handstand before falling back, her legs wrapping around his neck. In a swift motion she flipped Damon on the ground, her ankles crossing to lock in place. Damon couldn't move and Clove held her stance for a few seconds before releasing.

"Very nice you two." Ms. Fell said. "Good idea, Damon, to go for the hair and Clove, that was a smart way to escape it and correct yourself."

The two stood, Damon rubbing his throat and Clove pushing her hair back. They shook hands calmly. Clove grabbed her hair tie as they both walked back to their spots.

"Okay, Marinette, now that you get the idea, I'd like to see you try sparring against my students, just to get an idea of your skillset." Ms. Fell said.

"Sure." Marinette stood anxiously.

"And lucky for you, I already have a volunteer." Ms. Fell smiled. Marinette turned to see a girl from another corner stand up and immediately recognized her dark brown hair. "Have you met Priya?"

"Yeah." Marinette's eyes widened.

"We did yesterday, Ms. Fell." Priya smiled. " And I just knew that me and Marinette would be great friends, so I thought maybe we should try getting to know each other better since we're in the same class. What better than sparring?"

"Wonderful! That sounds like a great idea, Priya." Ms. Fell replied, backing to the wall. "No let's see what you two can do." She drank her iced coffee.

Marinette gulped as she walked to the center of the room. Priya had a maniacal smile on her face and eyes with a death wish. Marinette took a deep breath, but before she could react, Priya punched her in the gut. She coughed. The wind was knocked out of her as she hunched over.

"You don't belong here." Priya growled.

Marinette looked up miserably. Priya swung at her, but Marinette caught it in her other hand and pushed her back. Marinette clutched her stomach as she straightened. Priya smiled before kicking her foot up. Marinette ducked under it and bounced up with an uppercut. Priya fell to the ground, Marinette stepping closer. Before Marinette could fight, Priya flipped backwards in a roll so she was on her hands and knees. She smirked before monstrously crawling towards Marinette, snatching her ankle. Priya yanked before standing up, Marinette hitting the floor with a bang. Priya stepped on Marinette's wrist while still gripping her ankle. Luckily, Marinette was flexible.

"This isn't dance class." Marinette taunted, staring up at her.

Priya stayed serious. "Maybe you're in the wrong place then, Dupain-Cheng. Dancing around your opponent is a skill necessary to find their weak spots."

Marinette fought against her weight with no avail. "Even if you find my weak spots, you will not outsmart me." Priya's eye twitched. "My careless actions are actually well thought out."

Priya leaped forward, her fist smacking the ground where Marinette's head used to be. Without a hold on her anymore, Marinette rolled away, regaining a firm stance. She crawled a foot closer, grinning.

"You're too impatient to think through your attacks." Marinette said. "You won't last very long in a-"

Priya shoved her foot at Marinette, cracking her right in the nose. "You talk too much."

Marinette hit the back of her head against the floor, knocking her out. Priya stood up as Ms. Fell ran over.

She examined her. "Marinette will be fine." Ms. Fell said, holding the girl's head. "I wish she would have lasted longer. I was so interested to see a new fighting style."

"Seems she isn't cut out to be here if she can't even handle a little combative sparring." Priya snarled.

"Now that's not a way to think about a classmate." Ms. Fell said, standing up. "Marinette is new and far more experienced than the rest of us, but that doesn't guarantee she will excel at our daily routines that she has never gone through. This is new to her and all we can ask for is for her to try."

"But she's been fighting out in the real world." Priya argued. "This class should be nothing to her."

"And you two could end up on the same team once you both are done training." Ms. Fell crossed her arms. "If you walk in any room with that attitude, then you could never handle being on a team out in the real world yourself. Think differently from here on out or you'll stand by and watch her progress faster and pass you up in no time without even breaking a sweat."

Priya huffed, her nostrils flaring. She walked back to her corner to watch the next sparring session.

. . .

Marinette staggered back to her dorm, holding an icepack against her nose. It hurt worse than the back of her head smacking the floor. When she came to, Ms. Fell handed her an ice pack and told her not to return for the second session today. She was also instructed to rest up for the next physical day, cue the embarrassment when she returns.

Marinette remembered her entire fight with Priya and didn't know whether to be angry or embarrassed. She lost horribly, but to be fair, Priya had knocked her unconscious. She didn't know if that was allowed or not, but something about that class just didn't seem right for her. The training is fine, but the competition is debilitating. April was right when she said the competition is surreal and insane.

Even the other sparring matches were crazy. Those students are so driven to win that they move like emotionless, acrobatic zombies. Marinette was starting to enjoy the temple, even if it meant beginning at the bottom of the food chain, but she knew one thing, she didn't want to be those students. Marinette wanted to gain strength and better usage of her miraculous, but her humanity is a must. That can't vanish.

"Maybe things will get better." Marinette hoped. She reached her dorm room and fumbled with her keys before opening the door. She can adjust and she can change things, but it was never going to be easy.

[anogete]

Untitled Wintershock WIP - Update and Sneak Peek #2

Update: I’m at 55k words and a couple pages into chapter 12.  Somewhat solid plans for chapters 12-19, subject to my moods and the feeling when I get into those chapters.  There will certainly be more chapters than 19.  Probably 24 to 26 total if I had to guess.  I have a general idea of what will be after 19, but I don’t have the points ordered by chapter.  After spending the first four chapters in Bucky’s head, I’ve found myself alternating between him and Darcy for the rest of the fic.  I might switch that up if the story necessitates it, but alternating viewpoints has been helpful in writing this.

Still hoping to wrap this up by the end of July and start posting sometime in early August.  I’m also accepting:

1) Songs Darcy would play on a road trip with Bucky.

2) 90′s alt/indie/emo rock that Darcy would like and that could be used in my writing soundtrack.

If you think of anything that fits the bill on either, drop me a line via comment or inbox.  Thank you to everyone who has already done so.

Recap -- Canon-divergent AU a couple years after CW.  After an attack on Fort Bliss, General Ross and the American government have agreed to pardon Team Cap under certain conditions.  Steve wants Bucky included in the deal, but Ross resists until Nat claims that Bucky is married and wouldn’t pose a flight risk.  Ross agrees, and Steve and Nat ask Darcy to pretend to be Bucky’s wife for a year.  Here’s the sneak peek from the second chapter:

“I’ve been trying to get your attention,” T’Challa told him.

“Why?”

“It is not Tony Stark on the com for you,” T’Challa said. “Shuri is meddling and she allowed you to believe it was.”

“Who is it?” Bucky asked. “Steve?”

“Darcy Lewis.”

“What?” Bucky asked, pulling his hand away from the doorknob so quickly, he stumbled back a half-step.

“She thought she was doing the right thing by tricking you, but…” T’Challa sighed and reached out a hand to grip Bucky’s shoulder. “You have been through too much against your will for any of us to trick you into something. Shuri called her and told her you wanted to speak. She is the one who would act as your wife, yes?”

“Yes.” Bucky’s answer sounded like a frog’s croak.

“Do you wish to speak with her?”

“No. No, I… I can’t.”

“You can!” Shuri yelled from a few steps away.

“I can’t,” he told her.

“Stop being a coward, Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri told him. “You told me you didn’t want to make her do this. Well, why don’t you ask her what she thinks? Maybe you’ll feel differently.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, stepping away from Shuri and T’Challa.

“No, I don’t want you to leave, idiot. But you’re miserable here. I didn’t create that algorithm to deprogram HYDRA’s conditioning so you could sit in your hut and eat dinner by yourself after doing farm work all day. I didn’t create that arm so you could hide here for the rest of your life and hate yourself.”

“I don’t—” Bucky choked on the words he was about to say. “I don’t… hate myself.”

“You act like it, Sergeant Barnes,” she told him.

“I’m done with life. There’s a difference.”

T’Challa reached out for him, but he took another step back. “Barnes,” he said, furrowing his brows. “You’re meant for more than this.”

“I don’t know if I can fight,” he admitted, bracing himself with a hand on the wall. His stomach was churning; it felt like his body was eating itself alive.

“There are more purposes than the shedding of blood.”

“Not for me,” Bucky said. “Not for me.”

“Bullshit,” Shuri said, closing the distance between them. “You’re just afraid to try.”

“So? What if I am? What if I try and find out that’s all I am?”

“All you are?” she asked.

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. His ears were roaring and he knew it was blood even thought it sounded like a hurricane. “A fist, a gun, a man who strangles an innocent woman because she was in the way.” Was he even still standing? Were his knees locked?

T’Challa’s hand was on shoulder again, so he assumed he was still upright even though all he could see was the pinched look on Shuri’s face. “That was not you. I should know because I’m the one who went rooting around in there to remove the triggers.”

“You’re too forgiving,” Bucky told her.

“You’re too stupid,” she shot back. “You’re a good man.”

T’Challa’s fingers tightened, squeezing the muscles in Bucky’s right shoulder. “She’s right, Barnes. You cannot let the past define you. You must look forward, move forward.”

“I don’t know how.”

“You do. You’ve already done so.”

“At a snail’s pace,” Shuri added.

“Shuri,” T’Challa snapped, “have some mercy and some patience.”

“How about some tough love for my adopted uncle who seems determined to waste his life tending to goats?”

Bucky exhaled, his chest deflating. “Adopted uncle?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, giving him a haughty look, her chin up and her eyes rolled to the side. “Don’t act like we aren’t like family.”

Her comment and the irritation behind it made him smile. When he looked up, he saw T’Challa was smiling, too. “We see more in you than you see in yourself. You will fight only if you choose to, but that is not all you are, Barnes,” the man told him.

Bucky rolled his shoulder to break T’Challa’s hold. Once free, he leaned back against the wall, bracing himself and pulling in two deep breaths. “I don’t know if I can talk to her. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“She’s not expecting an answer from you, idiot. I told her you want to talk to her to see how she feels about what Steve is asking her to do,” Shuri said. “You told me that you couldn’t do this because you didn’t want to put her in this position. I thought you should actually ask her what she thinks about what she’s agreed to before you start deciding how she feels.”

“Shuri,” T’Challa said, his voice warning her.

“Shut up, brother.”

“Hey, don’t—”

“Don’t talk to your brother like that,” Bucky finished for the other man.

She rolled her eyes and lifted a hand.

“If you make that vulgar gesture at me…” T’Challa warned.

She smiled sweetly and flipped up her middle finger.

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from chuckling softly.

“I’m glad someone finds amusement in this blatant disrespect,” T’Challa said. The lift at the corners of his mouth belied his serious tone.

Shuri crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the ground. “She’s waiting, you know.”

Bucky felt his stomach drop at the mention of the woman who was currently being projected inside the room to his left. If he opened the door, then it would look like she was sitting there, waiting for him. The holograms were so realistic it was unnerving. “Shuri…” Bucky said with a sigh.

“She’s nice, Bucky. I like her. I think you will, too. She’s not expecting anything from you. This isn’t a blind date. Think of it like an interview for a job.”

“Who is interviewing? Me or her?”

Shuri shrugged. “Figure it out.”

[chut-je-dors]

5TL ask masterpost

Hi!!! Since there are SO many. SO SO many asks about 5TL in my inbox right now, I thought of (instead of working on a crucial uni deadline I have coming up) putting them all here and writing one long-arse post (so that people’s dashes won’t be..... overwhelmed with asks. Also less tagging). So here we go - Hopefully you get your answers here! Consider it as a fic........... it’s that long. Starting from the oldest!

Anonymous said: 5 thomas lane is definitely, without a doubt, my favourite ever fic. Its bloody brilliant!! I just wanted to ask, we know dave got people being rude about john and paul, and then the incident in the supermarket, but do vera and chuck ever get any shit at school about their dads? Or do other parents ever have a go at paul and john? Love the fic, honestly its my favourite thing. Its absolutely wonderful 💞💞💞

Thank you!! That is always such a lovely thing to hear! <3

Vera and Chuck have been thankfully mostly protected from any kind of homophobia. Chuck’s friends are too young to really care about it, they just go ‘ok’ when Chuck tells that he has two dads instead of one, and as for Vera only her close friends know. It’s not that she would’ve been treating it as a secret, but usually children at that age don’t really talk about their parents openly in class. At least I wouldn’t have been able to tell if some of my classmates had two mums, since you’d spend time in small groups instead of one bigger one, and then interact with the other people in the class only for school work. So since only her good friends know (and they don’t care) she hasn’t had to face any prejudice either.

As for Paul and John, at school events they receive a stink eye at most, since the other parents can’t possibly put up a scene in front of the kids and the teachers etc. Most of them don’t care, but there are always some who will kinda, steer their kid the other way. Paul and John fortunately are aces at dealing with the hurt feelings it causes, and Vera and Chuck are yet to notice that kind of behaviour. Dave is a little bit more perseptive, but then again he’s the oldest and unfortunately remembers some of the early encounters the family had when the world’s - and Liverpool’s - view on gay people wasn’t yet as open as it is now.

Anonymous said: 5tl question!! When j and p DO fight, who apologises first? Who sulks more? (Love this bloody fic)

Both are awful stubborn mules!! It’s terrible. But at the same time they go over the fight in their head and feel sorry about it, and then eventually one of them decides not to be an idiot anymore. But I feel that overall Paul would be less inclined to apologise first if he feels he’s right, and John will come trudging over ‘cos he can’t stand it when they fight for a long time. Then again, if John absolutely feels he’s correct, he’ll hold onto his opinion with tooth and nail, and Will Sulk. John in general sulks more I think, but half of it is tongue in cheek, since they so rarely have actual fights (more like, small-ish disputes)

Anonymous said: Okay I have a 5tl question: when it comes to the kids, which parent is each the most similar to personality-wise? Like for me, I’ve always thought Dave is like a mini Paul whereas Vera just SCREAMS John to me, what’s your opinion on this? Is this something you considered when writing the kids? <333

Oh god this is such a difficult question,, after a 20-minute discussion with @thefrogchorus​, (since this was such a difficult question and I needed her blessed input to sort out my thoughts) we came to the conclusion that they’re kind of a mix of both John and Paul without any definitive traits coming from their parents (Chuck is a mini-John, but that’s also because of y’kno, being his actual biological son). They’re very much their own people in my head, but especially their manners come from John and Paul, whether it be how to win an argument, or how to deal with sadness, etc.

I actually feel like Vera takes after Paul, in a way that when she puts her foot down, she’ll go through fucking stone if needs be, and Paul is very similar to that. Their sense of humour comes from both Paul and John, but I feel like they appreciate the sort of “silliness” John seems to cultivate a bit more.

Anonymous said: Can you tell us more about George and Ringo from 5TL? How did they end up together and what kinda dynamic does their relationship have? :)

George and Ringo met when Paul inherited the cottage from his grandparents back in 1998. George would come along to help rebuilding the cottage which was in a complete shambles. For the first two years Paul, John and George would sleep in a guest room at the farm since the cottage was inhabitable. In the mornings the four of them, since they quickly started getting along with Ringo, skipped over the field that separates the farm and the cottage and they’d work on the cottage all day long.

As was said in chp. 5, “The four of them got along swimmingly right from the first moment, and the very nice lad’s good-natured, calm farm-boy attitude completed the group in a strangely perfect way.“ “George started helping at the cottage  very often, as well.”

So George and Ringo really got to know each other and fell in love during that time. There’s gonna be a chapter eventually that goes over these events, so I’m not going to delve too deep into it now, and some details might change over time, so that’s what you’re gonna have to do with for now :)

As for the dynamic between the two... George embodies this wonderful dry wit that matches perfectly with Ringo’s more good-natured and gentle teasing. Their relationship is easy and fun, very very soft and warm. It’s really quite relaxed, considering both of them do lot of repetitive work that takes a lot of time, and they’re like that together as well, patient and calm.

Anonymous said: Have any of the 5tl kids been lost/ran away at any point and given John and Paul a fright?

I think, in grocery shop, at most. They’ve always been quite adept at keeping the kids under their watchful eye, and the kids haven’t had any urges to run away (because while Dave has teenage angst, he has no urges to like, y’know, leave the family he loves?). Of course even when you lose your kid into a grocery shop it’s a bit of a scare, at least for the Mother Hens Paul And John, (in the early years, not so much anymore since their skin is so tough), but everything’s always worked out fine in the end.

Anonymous said: I have a questionnn: has 5tl John had issues with his weight/ insecurity in the same way that actual John did? Idk I just love getting insights into this universe

I don’t think so, not to the same extent. Probably when he was a teenager he would’ve worried a little over his figure (like all teenagers do) but in this universe he’s always stayed in a relatively good shape, body mass wise (he still can’t lift heavy things but, hey. he’s a scrawny artist cut him some slack) and as such he doesn’t have any insecurities over it. I think, if he ever grows a little bit of belly when he’s older, it’ll be received with good humour and loving taps from Paul :) <3

Anonymous said: is paul always the big spoon in 5tl or do they switch? (WHY do i only think of these questions when im going to sleep jrbhrnsfjsj) 🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔🐔

Bless this question honestly aaahhhh <3333, Paul indeed is NOT always the big spoon, they switch, and BOTH love being the little spoon cos it makes them feels so nice. When they first started dating John might’ve taken the role of the big spoon a little more since Paul was still SMALL (bbbless,,,) but they evened it out. Sappy beings,, <33

Anonymous said: How did Martha join the 5TL family?

In the most traditional way possible: First kids wanted a dog, then Paul wanted a dog, and John grudgingly said “okay, I guess” and then suddenly there was fur everywhere and he had to go outside for long walks everyday no matter the weather and he had to keep a puppy from eating every possible furniture while Paul was at work. Poor John. (But he secretly loves Martha so it’s okay. He gets a little weak in the knees when Paul babbles to her.)

Anonymous said: How old were 5Thomas L. J+P when they started talking about kids/ did poor oleJohn hit the roof and freak out when Paul first suggested it since we know he’s not a fan of kids (except his own ofc)!

I think the discussion took place quite early in the relationship. Paul has always known he’d want kids, and as for John, and I quote the very first sentence of the whole fic,

“Having children had never been a requirement for John to live happily ever after. He would, however, be completely fine with one or two if his future partner wanted them, and he would love the kids with all his heart (if they weren’t absolutely terrible).“

So John has never hated the thought of kids, but for him the thought of them was more along the lines of “yeah I’ll be fine even if I never had them but if some where to come I wouldn’t object to it at all” so when Paul brought the subject up (like “hey how do you feel about kids? I mean ‘cos I kinda love them and I definitely wanna be a dad someday, but ofc not if it meant breaking up with you, ‘cos I’ll much more prefer a life with you ‘cos you’re like the only person I’ve ever loved and wanted to have sex with xoxo :) in fact let’s have sex right now”) John would’ve been like “yeah, cool, if it’s any possible any day i’m game even though i‘ll probably suck at being a dad because DADDY ISSUES” (the key to john’s character in any universe,,)

Remember that when John proposed Paul literally answered with “yeah i’ll marry you ONLY IF I GET TO BE THE POP”, so at that point Paul’s desires were very well known for John, and John knew what he was getting into. And as we know, John adores his kids :) So they’ve pretty much always had the agreement that one day there will be kids if it’s just possible. Only when it became the reality that they CAN adopt Dave, John started becoming nervous with the possibility of fucking up terribly, and even then he wanted to have a kid SO bad, as you can read from Chapter 12: the Bath Scene (which gives me the FEELS). That scene and chapter explain John’s stance on this pretty well! :)

Anonymous said: How tall are the 5tl kids? Just wondering <3 I love this fic

Hahah, thank you! Out of all the asks I’ve got over this fic, this is maybe one of the strangest ones - but it’s not a bad thing! Hahah I love how it got me thinking.

The average 15 year old boy in the UK would be around 5″7, but since Dave is originally from France he’s a little shorter, I’d say 5″4. Vera is 4″6, and Chuck is 3″8 :)

Anonymous said: I can imagine John getting absolutely TURNT around Rasputin by Boney M in the 5TL verse for some reason and it makes me laugh a lot

You are absolutely RIGHT this is the absolute TRUTH and it’s CANON NOW I SAID IT. John loves Boney M if only because they hit him right to where it itches. He loves singing along to Daddy Cool and Paul kinda hates it because Paul likes the Ramones and Nirvana and Rock’n Roll, baby, and then there’s John waving this disco propaganda at his head, but they work around it.

(Occasionally Paul might be caught humming Ma Baker) (Mma-mma-mma-mma-mmmaah)

Anonymous said: Do you have any more 5tl headcannons? The wait is killing me lol

Hahaha so many of them are actual spoilers but have a small list of ones that I can share with you! (Also... this whole post kinda is based on my headcanons so.... ) :D

Dave creates memes about his sucker family and sends them over in the family whatsapp group

(Credit @sunbeatle​ <3)

This also includes the Pepe. John loves the Pepe. He sends Paul Pepe memes all day long. Paul wants to know who this lizard is.

Chuck loves Pepe. He draws Paul a Pepe drawing. John puts it on the wall above their bed.

“John please stop. i'm not having sex in front of the lizard”

John blindfolds Paul so that Paul doesn't have to look at Pepe

“John I am going to divorce you over that lizard.”

Dave: "oh my god pop. it's a fucking frog." Paul: "wHAt part of that LIZARD looks like a FROG to you????"

Plot twist: Paul actually loves Pepe and knows it's a frog but he loves seeing how amused John gets over Paul's loathing; Anything For The Husband

(Pepe idea: Credit for Maria and Daisy. made us all howl with laughter)

John uses a ton emojis, always the wrong and the weird ones. He is VERY aware of it. Chaotic Evil.

Paul used to have the same kind of sunglasses as Kurt Cobain in the 90′s. He actually used them. They looked like this:

Terrible.

Paul sometimes writes poems, mostly humorous ones with a tongue-in-cheek about his life; it’s a nice creative outlet. He also might write poems specifically directed at the kids, so a children’s story but in poem form, and then he reads them to Chuck (or has John read them dramatically, which really fun for all of them)

There you go people! Hopefully this satisfied your bottomless thirst for more 5TL for some time! Don’t be afraid to hit me with new asks and your own headcanons, I love discussing this fic! Cheerio! <3

[ravens-rambling]

Figured I should make a masterpost eventually so here you go~ 

FICS:

Small and Broken, but still Family (One-shot) - Platonic LAMP/CALM Winged! Virgil, Virgil gets sick but tries to push through it just like before. But this time’s different. This time he has a family to look after him. Though his fear of his new family finding out about his secret gets in their way, and his way, to recovery.

Loved (Multi-chapters-Complete) Platonic LAMP/CALM Touched Starved Virgil, Virgil is touch-starved and doesn’t know how to ask for help until it becomes too much.    Part 2, Part 3

Why did you do it?  (Multi-chapters- Complete) Platonic LAMP/CALM Winged! Virgil,  Ever since Deceit had made his presence known to Thomas he has been getting stronger. Slowly he’s been tormenting Virgil until one night where Virgil wakes up covered in his own blood and without his wings. Thinking his family did it he is left betrayed and hurt… Part 2

Flexibility, Love, and Trust- (One-shot)-  Platonic Moxiety, Virgil having a bad nightmare and goes to Patton to calm him down. And what happens when they recently had a Steven Universe marathon night? You guessed it, a sing-a-long.

I, we, love you Virge! - (One-shot)- Platonic LAMP, Based off of a comic featuring our favorite doctor!  Virgil meets a stranger with the help of Logan and Patton.

Burnout - (Multi-chapters- Uncompleted) Prinxiety, What happens when Thomas goes through a ‘Creative Burnout’? 

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming - (One-shot) - Prinxiety,  It properly would help Virgil if, for once, he would be less secretive about himself and open up to the others now is that time going to be today? Properly not.

“You just don’t understand what it’s like.”- (One-shot)- Platonic LAMP/CALM, Sometimes when Roman comes up with a ridiculous idea it causes the sides to fight, and when Roman fights he says things he..doesn’t mean to. 

Scared to Love- (One-shot)- Romantic Logicality, Logan doesn’t think he is touch starved despite everything in him itching for contact. He pushes these feelings and emotions aside. What happens when that breaks? A certain father figure will help him piece together himself once again and help him realize its okay to want contact.

“You are safe now.” - (One-shot)- Platonic Analogical, Centaur AU!, Even though Virgil has been at Thomas’s farm for quite some time now, along with some new folks, he still can’t seem to let his guard down around them. But when he desperately needs help, when his freedom is almost stripped from him yet again, a certain large centaur helps him and fights back.

You are Purrfect- (One-shot)- Platonic Moxieity, Before romantic Prinxiety, It’s been a few weeks since the light sides accepted the emo side into their family. The first time they included Virgil into their family movie night they discovered a secret about the very cat-like side that no one expected.

"Please don’t be mad at me.” - (One-Shot) Romantic Analogical, When Virgil doesn’t get much rest for a while it always leads to disastrous things..followed closely by disastrous thoughts. Luckily a certain calm logical side, that has been by his side through everything, will help calm the anxious side down and assure him that he will never get upset with him.

These New Feelings - (Multi chapters- Uncompleted) Romantic Logicality, Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Moxiety, It didn’t take long for Patton to realize that he has romantic feelings towards a certain side, but fearing heartbreak he keeps it hidden. When the others find out they help him the best they can. Does Logan return these feelings or is it what Patton feared, is it one-sided?

My Special Star in the Sky - (One-shot) Romantic Logicality, Logan can comprehend almost everything the world has to offer. But the one thing he can’t understand? Emotions, romance, and a certain other side. Emotions will be the bane of his existence after all.

First Cuddle - (One-shot) Romantic Analogical, When Virgil woke up to knocks at his door at the dead of night he for sure was not expecting the logical side. And he definitely was not expecting Logan wanting comfort from him of all sides. But here he is…

Love like you- (One-shot) Romantic LAMP, romantic DLAMP, platonic Moceit,  When Deceit isn’t sure if he could fit into this ‘family’ cause of how freakish he looks he takes matters into his own hands, luckily a certain dad side is there to calm those thoughts and to assure to the lying side that sure it might be rocky and tough at first. But Ohana means family right?

Warm- (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP,  Virgil is feeling lonely and cold but when the others are busy he decides not to bother them even when it starts becoming too much. Luckily his boyfriends comfort him and give him all the comfort and warmth he needs.

Orange you pumped for Halloween?- (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP,  It’s Virgils second year with his family, with his boyfriends, and he remembers something about last year that causes him to raise some eyebrows. The answers he gets are a bit…surprising, to say the least.

Conclusion: Jumping in Leaves is quite..satisfactory- (One-Shot) Romantic Logince-Monster Sides AU!, Roman finds a way to baffle and confuse his boyfriend from time to time and its those times where he often wonders why he fell in love with this wolf-like man in the first place. That is until he looks at those red eyes and his manufactured heart beats out of control once again.

Reasons not to let Roman and Patton shop for candy alone - (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP- Human AU!,  Logan…may have made a mistake when he let two of his boyfriends to run amock when buying candy…

“Prove it” - (One- Shot) Romantic Logince, Platonic Logicality- Monster Sides AU! , All Logan wants to be is loved, for all his life he’s experienced hatred and fear for what he is. Luckily fate has changed for him as he met a certain vampire a few years back. But during one winters night, he met an unexpected and rather loud creature that sent certain feelings through him. Does this boy harbor same feelings towards him or does he run away like all previous humans before him? Only time will tell…

No caffeine for Virgil - (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP, Platonic Sleepxiety, Romantic October X Remy- Human AU!, When Remy wants Virgil to try out a seasonal drink he wasn’t expecting the consequences. Luckily his boyfriends are there to take care of him while his caffeine high goes down.

Jump out of your skin- (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP, When Thomas is dared to watch a horror movie by Joan Roman’s pride gets in the way and he couldn’t refuse.

Aren’t you scared? - (One-Shot) Romantic Prinxiety,  All Virgil wanted to do was go for a little walk what he least expected was to step in the middle of a graveyard with no way out and voices whispering to him. He can’t just have one normal day to relax can’t he?

Falling asleep and looking younger- (One-Shot) Romantic Analogical, When Virgil comes to Logan’s room after a particularly bad nightmare Logan soothes him and manages to calm him down. But something keeps nagging at Logan, something romantic couples are supposed to do, kissing. So Logan decides to kiss Virgil as an ‘experiment’ and the results were...pleasant. 

Speak with such a screech- (One-Shot) Romantic Analogical, Virgil is up late one night when he hears a sudden yell through the darkness. When he finds the source it isn’t something he expected.

This is Halloween- (One- Shot) Romantic LAMP, Roman agrees to a bet to enter a haunted/ abandoned carnival and his boyfriends are not letting him venture in there alone! Even if they encounter something unexpected.  

Average height- (One-Shot) Romantic Analogical,  “Hey–I’m perfectly average height for my age, thank you very much. You’re the one who’s freakishly tall!”

Snow Day - Part 1- Merman, Romantic Prinxiety- It was a cold winter’s day when Virgil stumbles upon something that he has only seen in nightmares, his love suffering and hurt, the only one who has cared about him his entire life. The only one that has shown him, love, was now hurting and he can’t do much about it. But his frantic mind thinks of something even though it may hurt the merman it’s the only thing he can think of.  Art to go with it!

Full of love- (One-Shot) Romantic Logicality, Human AU!  Two husbands, Patton and Logan, can never get tired of the love they have for each other. They settle into a quiet lazy dinner their love filling whatever room they are in.

Get your kisses here- (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP,  Virgil awakes to a more then normal eagerly happy Roman which can only spell disaster. And he was right when he only saw what his boyfriends have done with the living room. But no matter to him, it only makes him kiss all his boyfriends even more now. Not that he’s complaining. His boyfriends on the other hand…? May have made a mistake and created a monster in the process.

Ice Ice Baby- (One-Shot) Romantic Logince,  Logan has an argument with his boyfriend, Roman, which didn’t get to him. Despite the fact that he appears to be crying. But no it doesn’t get to him, he can’t let his emotions show right?

Secrecy - (One- Shot) Romantic Prinxiety, Even though the light sides don’t accept the particularly dark side, one of them has fallen in love with him. Now they have to keep it a secret from the others no matter what despite their aching hearts. The dark side has to spend the holidays alone without his partner there...

“I will always be there to protect you.” - (One-Shot) Romantic Prinxiety, Human AU!, When Roman gets a call at a late hour he wasn’t sure what to expect. He certainly wasn’t expecting his best friend and emo to be calling him in the middle of a panic attack. He rushes over to Virgil’s house and calms him down bringing him to his home. The next day he gets a special Christmas gift, one that he never thought would come. 

Putting up the cheer - (One-Shot) Romantic DLAMP, It’s Christmas which means putting up Christmas lights! Though Roman being Roman he doesn’t quite listen to the others luckily Deceit is there to save the day, grumbling all the while. 

Rain Day- (Multi-chapters- complete?) Romantic Analogical, It was a lazy day in the mindscape when Logan got approached by a nervous Virgil wanting cuddles. Now how can he say no to that? But while they were cuddling he found something rather…odd that the other side does… Hug

Simply Meant To Be- (One-Shot) Romantic Analogical,  Logan and Virgil had been together for four years now and today is Virgil’s birthday. Even though Virgil seems to have a curse placed on him on every one of his birthdays Logan is instant on proving him wrong. Does he accomplish his goal or is Virgil simply cursed that not even his beloved can break him out of?

Snow Equals Pain- (One- Shot) Romantic Remile, What happens when you mix snow and a gay boi who’s very sensitive to bright lights? And even more so a very hyperactive gay boyfriend of this gay boi? Not a very good thing that’s what.

Sick - (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP, This was their once in a blue moon break and they were going to spend it by picking out their Christmas tree. Course, Virgil being Virgil, tries to hide the fact that he is sick. Luckily his boyfriends are there to reassure him that its okay he’s sick and to take care of him.

“I can’t do this, Roman.” - (One-Shot) Romantic Logince- Human AU!, Logan has a problem, he loves Roman Prince. The guy who is the most popular kid in school and...is his bully. But during one chilly rainy day his dream comes true, Roman confesses he loves him too. But Logan...can’t stay the same thing back not yet at least. 

Bedrooms and Relief- (One-Shot) Romantic Prinxiety- Mario AU!, Roman is starting to get worried that his love is never going to wake up. Bowceit has kidnapped him and tortured him before they could save him. Its been days since then. That is until Roman is startled awake by a very familiar voice. Is his love really awake? Really with him once again or is he just dreaming again? 

“Are you sure about this?”- (One-Shot) Romantic Prinxiety, It was supposed to be a date for the two sides. And of course, before the two sides knew it things just had to turn a very violent turn. 

Calm Radiates In His Chest- (One-Shot) Romantic LAMP- Human AU!, Everyone has bad days and that includes a certain bubbly boi. Normally he hides it from everyone and hides away for the day. But his boyfriends are not having any of that. 

Sweet Tooth - (One-Shot) Romantic Logicality, Romantic Prinxiety, Patton has a bad sweet tooth, unfortunately, there are no snacks in the mindscape until a certain Creativity side comes back. But Logan goes out of his way to assure that his love doesn’t go too long without any sweets. Even though Patton has the most sweetest love he can ever have right there. 

~Send me a word and I’ll write three sentences based on it prompt~

Ticklish- Romantic Logicality 

Love- Romantic Analogical

Nightmares- Platonic Moxiety 

Afraid- Romantic Loceit 

Villian - Platonic LAMP

Rain - Romantic Logicality 

Candles- Romantic Logince 

Solace- Sympathetic Deceit

Vague- Romantic Prinxiety 

Cute- Romantic Logicality 

Yeet- Platonic Analogince

Soup- Romantic Prinxiety 

Cats- Platonic LAMP

Heartache- Romantic Logicality 

Moth- Romantic Logince 

Karaoke- Romantic Logicality 

Growl- Romantic Analogical 

Boop!- Romantic Logicality 

Butterfly kisses- Romantic LAMP

Calm down- Romantic Anxceit 

Pool- Romantic LAMP

Calm- Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Logicality, Platonic LAMP

Manhandling- Romantic Prinxiety 

Bled- Romantic Prinxiety

Oof - Romantic LAMP

Consciousness - Romantic Logince

Sleepy- Platonic Moxiety 

Alone- Romantic Prinxiety 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Ties in Blood -- Chapter 25

I know this is about a week late, but I had picked up a couple days at work which set this back a week. I still plan on getting a drabble based on the 300th and maybe another done and maybe the beginnings of Aaliyah’s hunting journal at least written up. I hope y’all like this since I feel like here and on AO3 people are losing interest due to low kudos/comments. Anyway ... There is a drabble tie-in at the end of the chapter. If I’ve tagged you here and not others, it’s just me being forgetful.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchestergirl-13 @percussiongirl2017 @impala-dreamer @optimisticpeacecollector5 @arazialotis @malinq-ashida

Chapter 25

Aaliyah stood a few feet behind the person at the pharmacy counter; an index finger tapping away at her thigh. She told Dean that she’d meet him and Sam at their motel room while she grabbed a few things. The person at the counter seemed to be taking a little too long for Aaliyah’s taste before they finally stepped away. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the open spot.

“Hi,” Aaliyah said. “I need Plan B, please.”

“Do you have a prescription for it?”

“I … uh … I didn’t know I needed one.” Her stomach started to twist from the seed of panic that took root. “Is there a way I can get it without a prescription?”

“Planned Parenthood. But … Let me talk with my manager for a minute.”

Aaliyah watched the pharmacy tech disappear around a corner. She glossed over the several shelves behind the counter in her turn to look out into the large store. Christmas music played over the PA system. The holiday was yet another reminder of what she missed growing up.

“Miss,” the pharmacy tech said, startling Aaliyah a little.

Aaliyah turned to see the tech sliding a box across the counter top.

“It’s fifty dollars,” the tech told her.

Aaliyah sighed with relief as she fished out the money to pay for it. She slid the box into a coat pocket in her path to the door. Her mind started running through excuses in the off chance one of the boys would find it. The second she stepped out the door, she shivered against the cold and zipped up her coat for the few minutes it took to reach her car.

She climbed into the car and managed to not completely rip open the box and freed one of the pills to dry swallow. Guilt started to eat away at her as Aaliyah pulled out of the parking spot. It was gonna be a hard few days.

***

Aliyah walked into the room with the bag of food and smiled at Sam. He responded with a quick wave while listening to whoever was on the other end of the call. She glared at Dean in his efforts to take the bag from her but didn’t really fight him on it. She draped her coat over the back of a chair as Sam hung up.

“Well, we’re not dealing with the anti-Clause,” he said.

“The what, now?” Aaliyah asked. “Isn’t that Krampus?”

“Who?” Dean shot her a confused look.

“It’s a what,” she countered. “In pagan tradition, it’s a horned half goat, half demonic creature that went around and punished children that misbehaved around this time. The legend has ties in Middle Europe and Northern Italy.”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

“It was in one of those odd lore books I read while laid up after the car accident.”

“Uh huh.” Dean blinked, bringing himself back around. “What’d Bobby say?”

“That we’re morons,” Sam answered.

Aaliyah gave an amused huff, gaining a stare from Sam. “What? He’s probably right? What else did he say?”

“And that there’s meadowsweet in the wreaths.”

“What the hell is meadowsweet?” Aaliyah asked before rifling through the food bag.

“A rare and powerful pagan plant.”

“How’d you not know that from that lore book?” Dean asked, a bite of food cheeked.

“It was pagan creatures, not herbs and its uses,” Aaliyah chided. “What’s meadowsweet to these gods you’re after?”

“Human sacrifice,” Sam said, reading off his laptop. “Kinda like … chum for their gods. They’re drawn to it and stop by and chow down on the nearest human.”

“Sounds lovely,” Aaliyah said.

“Why would anyone use it for Christmas wreaths?” Dean asked.

“It’s not as crazy as it sounds,” Sam said. “Pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan.”

“It’s Jesus’s birthday,” Dean argued.

“Not really,” Aaliyah chimed in, sitting down in the other chair. “His birthday was probably in the fall. It was the winter solstice that was taken by the Catholic church and renamed Christmas. The trees, the Yule log, even Santa’s suit, all remnants of pagan tradition.” She caught the mild surprise on Dean’s face and gave him a shrug. “I took a few classes on religions around the world.”

“Next you’re gonna tell me that the Easter Bunny’s Jewish,” Dean said.

Aaliyah shrugged and took another bite while Sam took over the conversation. She half listened while he talked about this Hold Nickar and that he would give mild weather in return for human sacrifices. “Any idea how to kill him?”

“No, but Bobby’s working on it,” Sam answered. “We can use your help on who’s selling those wreaths.”

***

Aaliyah walked into the shop that was decked out in Christmas floral arrangements as the bell above the door chimed. She repressed a shutter from the overload of seasonal joy and the memories of waking up Christmas day to nothing.

“Can I help you?” the shop keeper asked, coming into view.

“Uh, yeah. I was over at the Walshes’ the other night, playing a mean game of … um …Uno,” Aaliyah started, stammering for a second. “They had this wreath that I just gotta get for my own place, yah know? Made with mistletoe and … what was it? Meadowsweet. That’s it.”

“I know the one,” the show keeper said. “But I’m all out.”

Aaliyah made a confused look. “From what I heard, the stuff’s rare and expensive. Why put it in wreaths?”

The shop keeper gave a shrug. “Beats me. I didn’t make ‘em.”

Aaliyah tilted her head. “Who did?”

“A local woman. Madge Carrigan’s her name. Said the wreaths were so special, she’d gave ‘em to me free.”

“And you sold ‘em?” Aaliyah came to the conclusion.

“That’s right. People pay a crap ton for this stuff.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aaliyah said before seeing herself out.

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of the zip up hoodie for the few feet to the Impala and climbed it. “Got ‘em from some woman named Madge Carrigan,” she told the brothers. “And she’s a local who just gave the wreaths away for free to the guy.”

“Nut job,” Dean commented as he started the engine and backed out of the parking spot.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Aaliyah looked out the window as they drove down the streets back to the motel while the brothers talked the case over between themselves. She climbed out of the backseat once they pulled into a spot at the motel and followed the boys into the room. Their talk shifted from the case to a wreath that John had gotten years ago. She half listened to them as she rifled through her bag and worked out the pill box.

“Aaliyah, tell me you had a decent Christmas growing up,” Sam said.

She dry swallowed the pill in her turn to face the younger Winchester. “What’s a decent Christmas? Xander and I grew up half starved thanks to our father dividing his time between work and hunting. Those two weeks off from school were tough until high school.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.

“I got used to not getting anything.” Aaliyah turned back to her back and hid the box. “You two want me come with you to the Carrigans tomorrow? Or I can dig around for another case.”

“Nah, you stay here,” Dean told her. “Relax for a day or two.”

Aaliyah swore she heard worry in his voice. Like there was something there he wanted to make sure of.

“Besides,” he continued. “We’re just going to scope out the place. You’ll be the first we call for help.”

A sigh escaped Aaliyah’s lips. “There’s gotta be something I can do to help. What’d Bobby say that’ll kill the suckers?”

“Evergreen stakes.”

“Where am I gonna get evergreen branches at this time of day?”

***

Aaliyah shivered as she glanced over the sparse selection of trees. The attendant for the pop up farm had the air of wanting to retreat back into their camper and spend Christmas alone. She chose a small one that appeared to be able to yield a few stakes and the attendant went about wrapping it and helping her put it on the car roof. The drive back to the motel was a bit nerve wracking, but she made it. Aaliyah declined the help to get the tree off the car and into the room by another person there and managed to do the work alone.

With the television on for a source of noise, Aaliyah managed to get the tree free of it’s wrapping and a decent sized branch for a stake. She worked at it with a knife and had just started getting a point when her cell buzzed with an incoming text.

911 Carrigan House

Aaliyah jumped from the chair and armed herself with the same knife and the partially made stake. With the two weapons in one hand and the cell and keys in the other, she darted out the room and was on the room racing down the street.

She killed the headlights on her approach to the house before putting the car into park. Her heart raced with adrenaline coursing through her body as she stalked toward the house, darting from shadow to shadow. A peak through a window showed Aaliyah Sam tied up in a chair. She watched as his hand was cut and was about to barge in with what she had when she heard voices approaching the house from the path. Aaliyah moved around to the back of the house and used the distraction of the neighbors to get inside the house.

Leave it to disgruntled pagan gods to be the ones to be the picturesque of the middle class living. The back room was disgustingly clean. Aaliyah cracked the door open and peered out. It gave her a view of the kitchen and dining area where Dean and Sam were tied up. Aaliyah could hear voices at the front door while Dean gestured her into the area. She kept herself low on her hunches, nearly sitting on the floor, and moved for Dean first. With one hand she unsheathed her knife and started sawing at the rope that tied him down.

“Next time we have a wild night…” Dean started.

“Save it for when we’re not…” The knife went through the last of the rope. Aaliyah looked up to match Dean’s gaze. “Facing down pagan gods.”

Aaliyah worked her way under the table and worked at freeing Sam the same way while Dean freed himself. She went from under the table to the threshold between the dining room and living room to keep watch on the Carrigans while the brothers freed themselves. Two quiet knocks on the trimming alerted the brothers that the distraction was gone. Aaliyah pulled herself from the threshold and followed after them into the kitchen then back out when the Carrigans enter.

“Didn’t expect you to get here so quick,” Sam said, holding his door closed.

“Always the trust worthy backup, that’s what I am.” She pulled at the cabinet and barely moved it. She sensed Sam move beside her and help with it.

“What now?” Dean asked as he came around. “The stakes are in the basement.”

Aaliyah rolled her own stake in her hand even as she scanned the house. She nudged the boys and gestured with her head toward the displayed tree. There was a second or two, the brothers sharing a look and holding an entire conversation with that look, before they moved for the tree. She stepped into the living room just as the door blocked by a drawer opened. In a spin, she brought up her spike just to have it knocked out of her hand.

“Oh dear,” Madge spoke. “Don’t wanna be ruining our clothes, do we?”

“Who said anything about ruining clothes?” Aaliyah’s body tensed when a hand behind her grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

The one who pulled her back took her place and plunged their stake into Madge.

Aaliyah panicked in her search for her stake and dove for it. The small hairs on her body stood on end, the sensation of someone right behind her. She rolled and brought the stake out in front of her just as Mr. Carrigan came down toward her. There was a look of surprise on his face, like he hadn’t expected her to actually kill him. She guided him onto the floor where he landed with a thud. Her chest heaved slightly before her breathing returned to normal.

“Aaliyah?” Sam called out. “Aaliyah?”

She lifted a hand and waved it. “Over here.” Her hand grabbed hold of the hand that grabbed her before pulling herself up. “Thanks, Sammy.”

He gave an amused noise. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

“Some Christmas. See you two back at the motel? I’ll make a food and beer run?”

***

Aaliyah used her foot to close the motel door behind her as she was greeted with Eliza Fitzgerald’s version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and a small, but intact, tree being decorated by Sam.

“Car fresheners?” she questioned, putting the couple bags and couple cases of beer on the table.

“Best choice from the station,” Sam answered. He turned from putting the last air freshener on the tree. “Are you okay staying with us tonight? I know what happened with Amanda…”

Aaliyah waved off what would had been a touching speech. “I’m working through it. Am I better than a week ago? Not really. Part of me still wants to go all self-destructive over it. But I don’t wanna go and spend this time alone and …”

She was interrupted by the door opening behind her and Dean walking in with the pizza.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“Uh …” Sam trailed off. “It’s Christmas.”

Aaliyah grabbed a beer and moved out of the way between the brothers.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean asked.

Aaliyah listened as Sam offered up the eggnog and pulled out her cell. She thumbed through the contacts and started at Nissa’s number, her mind warring on to call or not. Hitting the call button, Aaliyah put the cell to her ear and listened to the ringing.

“You got bad timing,” Nissa greeted. “I’m about to kick Leo’s ass in Scrabble.”

“So not true,” Leo shouted.

Aaliyah chuckled to herself at the bickering between her half siblings.

“Where are you?” Nissa asked, her attention back to Aaliyah. “Last I heard you were off in Texas chasing down a Chupacabra.”

“Ypsilanti.” Aaliyah casted a glance over her shoulder to the boys, who had sat down and were exchanging gifts. “The guys needed some help with some pagan gods and I was in the area.”

“We told mom about you,” Nissa said. “Surprised the both of us saying she wanted to meet you one day. You should come by tomorrow. Maybe have a family dinner.”

Aaliyah shifted her weight. “I need to check on Xander. It’s been too long since I’ve done that. Not sure he’s … stable after that vampire hunt of his went sideways a few months ago.”

“Tell Liyra that if she’s not coming to us tomorrow,” Leo said, his voice still distant from wherever he sat at the table. “We’re coming to her.”

“It does sound better than you running around on your own,” Nissa agreed. “We’ll see you tomorrow around noon.” She hung up before Aaliyah could argue.

“Hey, Aaliyah,” Dean called to her. “You got stuff, too.”

She turned to see them looking at her. “Alright, hang on.” She walked over and grabbed the couple bags off the table and handed one bag to each brother before sitting on the couch.

“You didn’t have too,” Dean half protested as he dug into the bag.

Aaliyah half shrugged and held up the bags that he and Sam had handed her. “Same here. Now, lets see here …” She dug into one bag and pulled out a pack of gum, a few bottles of Faygo in a few different flavors, and a candy bar. “Thanks, Dean.”

“How’d you know?”

She held up the skin mag. “Who else woulda slipped this in there? Not that I mind. I like looking at hot chicks.” Her eye caught Dean’s jaw drop a little and laughed. “Nothing wrong with looking. And from Sam we got … some first aid supplies, a box of ammo, and a fantasy book. Thanks guys. I mean it.”

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, bringing her attention over to Sam.

“You’re family,” he told her. “We’ll do anything for you.”

“Sammy’s right,” Dean added. “Anything at all, you call us.”

Aaliyah gave a small smile. “Thanks. Now, how about that game?”

She turned her attention to the tv as the game was turned on. She toed off her shoes and settled back into the couch, crossing her legs in front of her. It was another Christmas motel, something that happened during college. But there was something about this year that was different. Aaliyah wasn’t spending it alone or at a friend’s place for two weeks. This one had the bond shared with two brothers that had grown up in a broken family, not quite that different from her own, and grew up as hunters. Part of her wasn’t sure how to process the whole mix of the day.

Her body shifted throughout the game until she was stretched out and taking up her seat and the space between her and Sam; her head resting on the arm rest. At one point the motel door opened and closed a few times before she startled at the weight of a blanket being placed on her and a pillow under her head. Aaliyah caught some of a conversation between Sam and Dean before she passed out for the night.

“Liyra, sweetheart.”

The voice was calm and quiet, as if the speaker honestly didn’t want to wake her up. She moaned in protest of being woken.

“I know. But I wanna talk with you about something.”

Aaliyah’s eyes opened in a snap to see Dean sitting on the floor next to her. His face had softened to a point where it seemed like it took him hours trying to figure out how to start the conversation and bring it up to her. She saw her Plan B box come up into view and her heart sank.

“If I had known…” Dean started before Aaliyah shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice was a little raspy from the night’s sleep. “Not entirely. Some of the blame’s on me for not asking you to … cover up. And I think you might agree our life isn’t one to bring a kid into.”

“I do agree. Promise me this, though. Once I go downstairs and roast on a spike, you get yourself outta this life. Get back into nursing and have a normal life. Have a few boyfriends. Hell, a girlfriend even.” Dean reached out and put the box on the couch. “Just … get out of scaring yourself with things you can’t fix.”

Aaliyah nodded before Dean leaned over and gave her forehead a gentle kiss.

“Now, don’t you have a family thing to do today?”

“I’ll give Nissa a call in a few.” Aaliyah tossed the blanket off her and onto the back of the couch. “But first, nature calls.” She grabbed the box in her motion of sitting up. “And I gotta get one of these little things in my system.”

***

“Hey, sis,” Leo called to Aaliyah as she emerged from the motel room, her bags in hand. “Ready to roll?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Aaliyah replied. “Just follow me. The assisted living home’s not that far from here.” She tossed her bags into the backseat of her car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

With the radio on one of the few stations not playing Christmas music, she pulled out of the motel lot and started off down the road. Her mind raced with scenarios on how Xander would react to his siblings showing up after all this time. And with each one that popped up she shot back down with the reminder that she didn’t know how he would react and to stop torturing herself.

Aaliyah found a parking spot at the assisted living building and climbed out as her half siblings found another parking spot. She half expected there to be more vehicles than the dozen or so that probably belonged to the employees.

“Apparently other people are too bothered to visit family here,” Leo spoke what Aaliyah was thinking.

“We have reasons that keep us away,” Nissa added. “What do they have? Gotta get to the gym for the weekly run on the treadmill?”

“Racquetball?” Leo tossed in as they started for the door.

Aaliyah ignored them as the two tossed gym activities back and forth. There was something odd about what little she was able to see in the lobby before they stepped through the doors. Sure, there were residents up and moving about. Nurses making their rounds. Everything seemed to be on pace for a normal day. But there was still something that screamed supernatural to her.

“Guys, shut it,” she snapped under her breath. “Something’s wrong here.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Leo commented. “You must be feeling off. Excuse me, nurse?” He started for the nearest nurse.

“I’m getting the feeling, too,” Nissa said, coming up beside Aaliyah. “Whatcha think it is?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t like that. Maybe Leo’s right and I’m just off. The holiday season’s a bad time anyway and there’s …”

“Come on, you two,” Leo called to them. “Xander’s this way.”

“I’ll tell you later.” Aaliyah followed after her brother, who was half way to a hallway. There was some yelling and shouting coming from one of the rooms down that way.

“Hey, Xander,” Leo’s voice drifted from a room he had ducked into. Right before there was the sound of glass shattering and Leo jumping out from the room. “Nice to see you, too,” he muttered. “Careful, Liyra. He’s gone wild.”

Aaliyah pushed past Leo and eased her head into Xander’s room to see him fighting three nurses and a doctor.

“I don’t want any meds,” Xander shouted in his struggles against the medical staff there.

Aaliyah moved further into the room and over to the bed. “Xander.” It was quiet enough she wasn’t sure he would actually hear her. “Xander.”

“Sedative,” the doctor said.

One of the nurses pulled herself from Xander and came face to face with Aaliyah. “You can’t be here.”

“I’m his sister,” Aaliyah argued.

“Don’t let ‘em drug me,” Xander called out.

Aaliyah wasn’t sure if he called out to her or to anyone who would help. She pulled the nurse into the hallway and saw her expression change when Nissa and Leo came in close. “Is he refusing medication?”

“Has been,” the nurse shifted nervously. “Kept saying that there was something here and had to deal with it. I’m not supposed to tell you this …” She glanced back to the room. “But we’ve had several people slip into comas and die in the past three months. And two more entered comas a few days ago.”

“I’m Aaliyah,” she told the nurse. “I believe I’m on the paperwork …”

“You are,” the nurse confirmed. “But what do you know…”

“I went to nursing school, I know the rights of the patient,” Aaliyah interrupted. “And if my brother’s of sound mind, he’s able to make any medical choice he wants. No drugs, period. Now, do we need to go in there and pull off your co-workers?” Aaliyah stared down the nurse before moving for the room.

“Alright, all of you, out,” Aaliyah raised her voice. “Now.” She stood her ground as the remaining two nurses and doctor moved from the bed and out of the room. “Nissa, Leo. I think we all need a talk.”

[notsofly]

Ties in Blood Chapter 25

@mrswhozeewhatsis @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @squirrelnotsam @winchestergirl-13

Chapter 25

Aaliyah stood a few feet behind the person at the pharmacy counter; an index finger tapping away at her thigh. She told Dean that she’d meet him and Sam at their motel room while she grabbed a few things. The person at the counter seemed to be taking a little too long for Aaliyah’s taste before they finally stepped away. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the open spot.

“Hi,” Aaliyah said. “I need Plan B, please.”

“Do you have a prescription for it?”

“I … uh … I didn’t know I needed one.” Her stomach started to twist from the seed of panic that took root. “Is there a way I can get it without a prescription?”

“Planned Parenthood. But … Let me talk with my manager for a minute.”

Aaliyah watched the pharmacy tech disappear around a corner. She glossed over the several shelves behind the counter in her turn to look out into the large store. Christmas music played over the PA system. The holiday was yet another reminder of what she missed growing up.

“Miss,” the pharmacy tech said, startling Aaliyah a little.

Aaliyah turned to see the tech sliding a box across the counter top.

“It’s fifty dollars,” the tech told her.

Aaliyah sighed with relief as she fished out the money to pay for it. She slid the box into a coat pocket in her path to the door. Her mind started running through excuses in the off chance one of the boys would find it. The second she stepped out the door, she shivered against the cold and zipped up her coat for the few minutes it took to reach her car.

She climbed into the car and managed to not completely rip open the box and freed one of the pills to dry swallow. Guilt started to eat away at her as Aaliyah pulled out of the parking spot. It was gonna be a hard few days.

***

Aliyah walked into the room with the bag of food and smiled at Sam. He responded with a quick wave while listening to whoever was on the other end of the call. She glared at Dean in his efforts to take the bag from her but didn’t really fight him on it. She draped her coat over the back of a chair as Sam hung up.

“Well, we’re not dealing with the anti-Clause,” he said.

“The what, now?” Aaliyah asked. “Isn’t that Krampus?”

“Who?” Dean shot her a confused look.

“It’s a what,” she countered. “In pagan tradition, it’s a horned half goat, half demonic creature that went around and punished children that misbehaved around this time. The legend has ties in Middle Europe and Northern Italy.”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

“It was in one of those odd lore books I read while laid up after the car accident.”

“Uh huh.” Dean blinked, bringing himself back around. “What’d Bobby say?”

“That we’re morons,” Sam answered.

Aaliyah gave an amused huff, gaining a stare from Sam. “What? He’s probably right? What else did he say?”

“And that there’s meadowsweet in the wreaths.”

“What the hell is meadowsweet?” Aaliyah asked before rifling through the food bag.

“A rare and powerful pagan plant.”

“How’d you not know that from that lore book?” Dean asked, a bite of food cheeked.

“It was pagan creatures, not herbs and its uses,” Aaliyah chided. “What’s meadowsweet to these gods you’re after?”

“Human sacrifice,” Sam said, reading off his laptop. “Kinda like … chum for their gods. They’re drawn to it and stop by and chow down on the nearest human.”

“Sounds lovely,” Aaliyah said.

“Why would anyone use it for Christmas wreaths?” Dean asked.

“It’s not as crazy as it sounds,” Sam said. “Pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan.”

“It’s Jesus’s birthday,” Dean argued.

“Not really,” Aaliyah chimed in, sitting down in the other chair. “His birthday was probably in the fall. It was the winter solstice that was taken by the Catholic church and renamed Christmas. The trees, the Yule log, even Santa’s suit, all remnants of pagan tradition.” She caught the mild surprise on Dean’s face and gave him a shrug. “I took a few classes on religions around the world.”

“Next you’re gonna tell me that the Easter Bunny’s Jewish,” Dean said.

Aaliyah shrugged and took another bite while Sam took over the conversation. She half listened while he talked about this Hold Nickar and that he would give mild weather in return for human sacrifices. “Any idea how to kill him?”

“No, but Bobby’s working on it,” Sam answered. “We can use your help on who’s selling those wreaths.”

***

Aaliyah walked into the shop that was decked out in Christmas floral arrangements as the bell above the door chimed. She repressed a shutter from the overload of seasonal joy and the memories of waking up Christmas day to nothing.

“Can I help you?” the shop keeper asked, coming into view.

“Uh, yeah. I was over at the Walshes’ the other night, playing a mean game of … um …Uno,” Aaliyah started, stammering for a second. “They had this wreath that I just gotta get for my own place, yah know? Made with mistletoe and … what was it? Meadowsweet. That’s it.”

“I know the one,” the show keeper said. “But I’m all out.”

Aaliyah made a confused look. “From what I heard, the stuff’s rare and expensive. Why put it in wreaths?”

The shop keeper gave a shrug. “Beats me. I didn’t make ‘em.”

Aaliyah tilted her head. “Who did?”

“A local woman. Madge Carrigan’s her name. Said the wreaths were so special, she’d gave ‘em to me free.”

“And you sold ‘em?” Aaliyah came to the conclusion.

“That’s right. People pay a crap ton for this stuff.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aaliyah said before seeing herself out.

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of the zip up hoodie for the few feet to the Impala and climbed it. “Got ‘em from some woman named Madge Carrigan,” she told the brothers. “And she’s a local who just gave the wreaths away for free to the guy.”

“Nut job,” Dean commented as he started the engine and backed out of the parking spot.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Aaliyah looked out the window as they drove down the streets back to the motel while the brothers talked the case over between themselves. She climbed out of the backseat once they pulled into a spot at the motel and followed the boys into the room. Their talk shifted from the case to a wreath that John had gotten years ago. She half listened to them as she rifled through her bag and worked out the pill box.

“Aaliyah, tell me you had a decent Christmas growing up,” Sam said.

She dry swallowed the pill in her turn to face the younger Winchester. “What’s a decent Christmas? Xander and I grew up half starved thanks to our father dividing his time between work and hunting. Those two weeks off from school were tough until high school.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.

“I got used to not getting anything.” Aaliyah turned back to her back and hid the box. “You two want me come with you to the Carrigans tomorrow? Or I can dig around for another case.”

“Nah, you stay here,” Dean told her. “Relax for a day or two.”

Aaliyah swore she heard worry in his voice. Like there was something there he wanted to make sure of.

“Besides,” he continued. “We’re just going to scope out the place. You’ll be the first we call for help.”

A sigh escaped Aaliyah’s lips. “There’s gotta be something I can do to help. What’d Bobby say that’ll kill the suckers?”

“Evergreen stakes.”

“Where am I gonna get evergreen branches at this time of day?”

***

Aaliyah shivered as she glanced over the sparse selection of trees. The attendant for the pop up farm had the air of wanting to retreat back into their camper and spend Christmas alone. She chose a small one that appeared to be able to yield a few stakes and the attendant went about wrapping it and helping her put it on the car roof. The drive back to the motel was a bit nerve wracking, but she made it. Aaliyah declined the help to get the tree off the car and into the room by another person there and managed to do the work alone.

With the television on for a source of noise, Aaliyah managed to get the tree free of it’s wrapping and a decent sized branch for a stake. She worked at it with a knife and had just started getting a point when her cell buzzed with an incoming text.

911 Carrigan House

Aaliyah jumped from the chair and armed herself with the same knife and the partially made stake. With the two weapons in one hand and the cell and keys in the other, she darted out the room and was on the room racing down the street.

She killed the headlights on her approach to the house before putting the car into park. Her heart raced with adrenaline coursing through her body as she stalked toward the house, darting from shadow to shadow. A peak through a window showed Aaliyah Sam tied up in a chair. She watched as his hand was cut and was about to barge in with what she had when she heard voices approaching the house from the path. Aaliyah moved around to the back of the house and used the distraction of the neighbors to get inside the house.

Leave it to disgruntled pagan gods to be the ones to be the picturesque of the middle class living. The back room was disgustingly clean. Aaliyah cracked the door open and peered out. It gave her a view of the kitchen and dining area where Dean and Sam were tied up. Aaliyah could hear voices at the front door while Dean gestured her into the area. She kept herself low on her hunches, nearly sitting on the floor, and moved for Dean first. With one hand she unsheathed her knife and started sawing at the rope that tied him down.

“Next time we have a wild night…” Dean started.

“Save it for when we’re not…” The knife went through the last of the rope. Aaliyah looked up to match Dean’s gaze. “Facing down pagan gods.”

Aaliyah worked her way under the table and worked at freeing Sam the same way while Dean freed himself. She went from under the table to the threshold between the dining room and living room to keep watch on the Carrigans while the brothers freed themselves. Two quiet knocks on the trimming alerted the brothers that the distraction was gone. Aaliyah pulled herself from the threshold and followed after them into the kitchen then back out when the Carrigans enter.

“Didn’t expect you to get here so quick,” Sam said, holding his door closed.

“Always the trust worthy backup, that’s what I am.” She pulled at the cabinet and barely moved it. She sensed Sam move beside her and help with it.

“What now?” Dean asked as he came around. “The stakes are in the basement.”

Aaliyah rolled her own stake in her hand even as she scanned the house. She nudged the boys and gestured with her head toward the displayed tree. There was a second or two, the brothers sharing a look and holding an entire conversation with that look, before they moved for the tree. She stepped into the living room just as the door blocked by a drawer opened. In a spin, she brought up her spike just to have it knocked out of her hand.

“Oh dear,” Madge spoke. “Don’t wanna be ruining our clothes, do we?”

“Who said anything about ruining clothes?” Aaliyah’s body tensed when a hand behind her grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

The one who pulled her back took her place and plunged their stake into Madge.

Aaliyah panicked in her search for her stake and dove for it. The small hairs on her body stood on end, the sensation of someone right behind her. She rolled and brought the stake out in front of her just as Mr. Carrigan came down toward her. There was a look of surprise on his face, like he hadn’t expected her to actually kill him. She guided him onto the floor where he landed with a thud. Her chest heaved slightly before her breathing returned to normal.

“Aaliyah?” Sam called out. “Aaliyah?”

She lifted a hand and waved it. “Over here.” Her hand grabbed hold of the hand that grabbed her before pulling herself up. “Thanks, Sammy.”

He gave an amused noise. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

“Some Christmas. See you two back at the motel? I’ll make a food and beer run?”

***

Aaliyah used her foot to close the motel door behind her as she was greeted with Eliza Fitzgerald’s version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and a small, but intact, tree being decorated by Sam.

“Car fresheners?” she questioned, putting the couple bags and couple cases of beer on the table.

“Best choice from the station,” Sam answered. He turned from putting the last air freshener on the tree. “Are you okay staying with us tonight? I know what happened with Amanda…”

Aaliyah waved off what would had been a touching speech. “I’m working through it. Am I better than a week ago? Not really. Part of me still wants to go all self-destructive over it. But I don’t wanna go and spend this time alone and …”

She was interrupted by the door opening behind her and Dean walking in with the pizza.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“Uh …” Sam trailed off. “It’s Christmas.”

Aaliyah grabbed a beer and moved out of the way between the brothers.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean asked.

Aaliyah listened as Sam offered up the eggnog and pulled out her cell. She thumbed through the contacts and started at Nissa’s number, her mind warring on to call or not. Hitting the call button, Aaliyah put the cell to her ear and listened to the ringing.

“You got bad timing,” Nissa greeted. “I’m about to kick Leo’s ass in Scrabble.”

“So not true,” Leo shouted.

Aaliyah chuckled to herself at the bickering between her half siblings.

“Where are you?” Nissa asked, her attention back to Aaliyah. “Last I heard you were off in Texas chasing down a Chupacabra.”

“Ypsilanti.” Aaliyah casted a glance over her shoulder to the boys, who had sat down and were exchanging gifts. “The guys needed some help with some pagan gods and I was in the area.”

“We told mom about you,” Nissa said. “Surprised the both of us saying she wanted to meet you one day. You should come by tomorrow. Maybe have a family dinner.”

Aaliyah shifted her weight. “I need to check on Xander. It’s been too long since I’ve done that. Not sure he’s … stable after that vampire hunt of his went sideways a few months ago.”

“Tell Liyra that if she’s not coming to us tomorrow,” Leo said, his voice still distant from wherever he sat at the table. “We’re coming to her.”

“It does sound better than you running around on your own,” Nissa agreed. “We’ll see you tomorrow around noon.” She hung up before Aaliyah could argue.

“Hey, Aaliyah,” Dean called to her. “You got stuff, too.”

She turned to see them looking at her. “Alright, hang on.” She walked over and grabbed the couple bags off the table and handed one bag to each brother before sitting on the couch.

“You didn’t have too,” Dean half protested as he dug into the bag.

Aaliyah half shrugged and held up the bags that he and Sam had handed her. “Same here. Now, lets see here …” She dug into one bag and pulled out a pack of gum, a few bottles of Faygo in a few different flavors, and a candy bar. “Thanks, Dean.”

“How’d you know?”

She held up the skin mag. “Who else woulda slipped this in there? Not that I mind. I like looking at hot chicks.” Her eye caught Dean’s jaw drop a little and laughed. “Nothing wrong with looking. And from Sam we got … some first aid supplies, a box of ammo, and a fantasy book. Thanks guys. I mean it.”

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, bringing her attention over to Sam.

“You’re family,” he told her. “We’ll do anything for you.”

“Sammy’s right,” Dean added. “Anything at all, you call us.”

Aaliyah gave a small smile. “Thanks. Now, how about that game?”

She turned her attention to the tv as the game was turned on. She toed off her shoes and settled back into the couch, crossing her legs in front of her. It was another Christmas motel, something that happened during college. But there was something about this year that was different. Aaliyah wasn’t spending it alone or at a friend’s place for two weeks. This one had the bond shared with two brothers that had grown up in a broken family, not quite that different from her own, and grew up as hunters. Part of her wasn’t sure how to process the whole mix of the day.

Her body shifted throughout the game until she was stretched out and taking up her seat and the space between her and Sam; her head resting on the arm rest. At one point the motel door opened and closed a few times before she startled at the weight of a blanket being placed on her and a pillow under her head. Aaliyah caught some of a conversation between Sam and Dean before she passed out for the night.

“Liyra, sweetheart.”

The voice was calm and quiet, as if the speaker honestly didn’t want to wake her up. She moaned in protest of being woken.

“I know. But I wanna talk with you about something.”

Aaliyah’s eyes opened in a snap to see Dean sitting on the floor next to her. His face had softened to a point where it seemed like it took him hours trying to figure out how to start the conversation and bring it up to her. She saw her Plan B box come up into view and her heart sank.

“If I had known…” Dean started before Aaliyah shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice was a little raspy from the night’s sleep. “Not entirely. Some of the blame’s on me for not asking you to … cover up. And I think you might agree our life isn’t one to bring a kid into.”

“I do agree. Promise me this, though. Once I go downstairs and roast on a spike, you get yourself outta this life. Get back into nursing and have a normal life. Have a few boyfriends. Hell, a girlfriend even.” Dean reached out and put the box on the couch. “Just … get out of scaring yourself with things you can’t fix.”

Aaliyah nodded before Dean leaned over and gave her forehead a gentle kiss.

“Now, don’t you have a family thing to do today?”

“I’ll give Nissa a call in a few.” Aaliyah tossed the blanket off her and onto the back of the couch. “But first, nature calls.” She grabbed the box in her motion of sitting up. “And I gotta get one of these little things in my system.”

***

“Hey, sis,” Leo called to Aaliyah as she emerged from the motel room, her bags in hand. “Ready to roll?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Aaliyah replied. “Just follow me. The assisted living home’s not that far from here.” She tossed her bags into the backseat of her car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

With the radio on one of the few stations not playing Christmas music, she pulled out of the motel lot and started off down the road. Her mind raced with scenarios on how Xander would react to his siblings showing up after all this time. And with each one that popped up she shot back down with the reminder that she didn’t know how he would react and to stop torturing herself.

Aaliyah found a parking spot at the assisted living building and climbed out as her half siblings found another parking spot. She half expected there to be more vehicles than the dozen or so that probably belonged to the employees.

“Apparently other people are too bothered to visit family here,” Leo spoke what Aaliyah was thinking.

“We have reasons that keep us away,” Nissa added. “What do they have? Gotta get to the gym for the weekly run on the treadmill?”

“Racquetball?” Leo tossed in as they started for the door.

Aaliyah ignored them as the two tossed gym activities back and forth. There was something odd about what little she was able to see in the lobby before they stepped through the doors. Sure, there were residents up and moving about. Nurses making their rounds. Everything seemed to be on pace for a normal day. But there was still something that screamed supernatural to her.

“Guys, shut it,” she snapped under her breath. “Something’s wrong here.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Leo commented. “You must be feeling off. Excuse me, nurse?” He started for the nearest nurse.

“I’m getting the feeling, too,” Nissa said, coming up beside Aaliyah. “Whatcha think it is?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t like that. Maybe Leo’s right and I’m just off. The holiday season’s a bad time anyway and there’s …”

“Come on, you two,” Leo called to them. “Xander’s this way.”

“I’ll tell you later.” Aaliyah followed after her brother, who was half way to a hallway. There was some yelling and shouting coming from one of the rooms down that way.

“Hey, Xander,” Leo’s voice drifted from a room he had ducked into. Right before there was the sound of glass shattering and Leo jumping out from the room. “Nice to see you, too,” he muttered. “Careful, Liyra. He’s gone wild.”

Aaliyah pushed past Leo and eased her head into Xander’s room to see him fighting three nurses and a doctor.

“I don’t want any meds,” Xander shouted in his struggles against the medical staff there.

Aaliyah moved further into the room and over to the bed. “Xander.” It was quiet enough she wasn’t sure he would actually hear her. “Xander.”

“Sedative,” the doctor said.

One of the nurses pulled herself from Xander and came face to face with Aaliyah. “You can’t be here.”

“I’m his sister,” Aaliyah argued.

“Don’t let ‘em drug me,” Xander called out.

Aaliyah wasn’t sure if he called out to her or to anyone who would help. She pulled the nurse into the hallway and saw her expression change when Nissa and Leo came in close. “Is he refusing medication?”

“Has been,” the nurse shifted nervously. “Kept saying that there was something here and had to deal with it. I’m not supposed to tell you this …” She glanced back to the room. “But we’ve had several people slip into comas and die in the past three months. And two more entered comas a few days ago.”

“I’m Aaliyah,” she told the nurse. “I believe I’m on the paperwork …”

“You are,” the nurse confirmed. “But what do you know…”

“I went to nursing school, I know the rights of the patient,” Aaliyah interrupted. “And if my brother’s of sound mind, he’s able to make any medical choice he wants. No drugs, period. Now, do we need to go in there and pull off your co-workers?” Aaliyah stared down the nurse before moving for the room.

“Alright, all of you, out,” Aaliyah raised her voice. “Now.” She stood her ground as the remaining two nurses and doctor moved from the bed and out of the room. “Nissa, Leo. I think we all need a talk.”

[missvalerietanner]

tagged by @jmhwriterblog​ and yeah, ‘course I’m gonna do writing stuff ;p

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! Even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

FIRST LOOK

(using The Seven Kings, ‘cause that’s what I’m wrapped up in right now)

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

The brutal assassination of a king sparks the partnership between a hated half-breed hungry for revenge and a well-educated prince whose father arranged said assassination. 

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

Editing the first book right now. Still need to finish its ending. And I was so excited, I might have already started to write the sequel... ‘bout two solid chapters in so far. AND there’s enough happening that it’d probably be a trilogy. 

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

I... suck at this question every time I see it.

I guess... I’mma have to go with redemption. 

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

Legend of Zelda for sure, mainly inspiration for the diverse kingdoms and people. And then, I dunno, there’s probably a little bit of every fantasy movie and book I’ve ever seen/read tucked in this story somewhere. 

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

clicky - takes you to WeHeartIt

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

Valerie Tanner and Eli Orphesis (named him during my Greek obsession)

7. Who is their closest ally?

They gain several throughout the story, but the main two are Roderick, a rancher and old friend of Valerie’s (practically a second father to her), and Elyn, one of the queen’s handmaidens who joins them on their journey. Oh and then Aaron pops up later, and he’s an old ally of Valerie’s as well. 

8. Who is their enemy?

Mainly: Darrean Orphesis (yep, Eli’s dad)

9. What do they want more than anything?

Valerie wants revenge for Garrett’s death, and Eli wants to forge a path to his own future, a future not doomed to exist in the shadow of his father.

10. Why can’t they have it?

Valerie: gaining revenge changes nothing; Garrett’s still dead, and she’s still an outsider

Eli: he has to grow up and learn who he is without his father’s title protecting him, and there are a LOT of tough lessons on the road ahead for my boy. 

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Valerie believes she’s completely alone and useless. She believes her life is worth little, and that spending her life in service to better people/better men is the best she can do.

Eli ... is pretty arrogant, so his are kinda negative. He believes he’s untouchable, that he’s immune to certain feelings (like pity and loss). He thinks he has all the answers.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Valerie: 28, 5′8″ (172 CM), weighs 135 pounds (yes, I did), lean and muscular, smaller-than-average bust size, wavy brown hair that ends between her shoulder blades, deep/dark brown eyes, Caucasian, Ossa tattoo on her upper left arm (all black ink), muscular stomach, narrow hips, fit legs, covered in old/faded scars from battle and/or training, wears: black trousers that fit tight, knee-high boots, a fit undershirt to keep the girls pinned down and covered (;p), and a loose white overshirt to keep her cool. 

Eli: ~26, 6′2″ (188 CM - people of his race are tall as fuck), blue skin (similar to Oxford blue but a hair lighter), black hair that is a bit shorter than shoulder-length and he keeps it in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck (sexy!), bright golden eyes, muscular and well-built, hands lack callouses (only trained, never fought), no scars or wounds, wears proper royal clothes like a prince should (tunic, trousers, knee-high boots, waistcoat, the works)

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

Learning to accept help, realizing that people are more than their pasts or their titles and especially their race

14. What is the external conflict?

A power-hungry king and his massive army of well-trained, well-armed soldiers who are all purebloods, so they all have magical abilities.

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

For Valerie, losing the people she loves who she tries to protect. She’s watched so many die. She tends to be pretty self-sacrificing because she’d rather jump in harm’s way and die if it means saving someone else. (She has some self-esteem issues as well, so wanting to be someone’s shield makes her feel useful, and therefore, good. She also values others’ lives over her own.)

For Eli... Failure’s a big one for him. He’s probably afraid to die, but I’d say failing and letting down those around him is worse. His mother went to great lengths to make sure he was cultured and well-educated, so with all his knowledge, if he fails, yeah, that’d probably be what would crush him more than anything. 

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

Probably the reveal of Eli’s power. He was never trained as a child like he should’ve been (for reasons!), and so since he’s a pureblood, his powers developed on their own. He’s powerful but uncontrolled, so his abilities start leaking out, so to speak, on their own.

The reveal of what his power actually is, is a good moment. It’s subtle, but as each of the other characters begin to realize just how much power he wields, they also start to realize how REAL everything is becoming: like the war, their chances of survival, etc.  

17. Do you know how it ends?

Yes. I know the jist. I know what I’m aiming for. How I get there, I dunno, and what’s said or done when we get there, I dunno. 

I know which port I want to dock in. Just not what it looks like. 

;p

(I swear I am not drinking.)

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?

Hmm... unity for sure, redemption’s a big one, some focus on equality, but I’d say mostly it’s about people finding their place in the world by following their own intuitions rather than falling into the role provided for them or forced upon them. 

[cue Disney music]

19. What is a reoccurring symbol?

Valerie has a tattoo on her upper left arm that marks her as a member of Ossa, so basically an outsider. After what happens in the opening chapters, she keeps the tattoo hidden whenever possible. But its meaning causes some tension with... basically everyone she meets. 

...there’s probably others, but I can’t think of any that don’t require a lot of explaining... and I was pretty vague on the tattoo for reasons.

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description)

In the country of Nubrya (hate the name, can’t find one yet to replace it). It’s the border country on a massive continent and is encircled by three (possibly four or five... haven’t finished plotting the map) other countries to its east, west, and north. The south of Nubrya is open to the water. Its eastern edge rises into steep cliffs overlooking coves dug into the mountain side to house the nation’s ships during the winter. The western border levels off into desert. The north is rocky terrain, isolated, and sitting on a raised plateau, so every step from the heart of Nubrya upward is a hike. And to the northeast, there is a massive mountain range, upon which one of the Seven Kingdoms sits. And to the east/southeast (before the cliffs) are the farms and vineyards of the country.

Every type of landscape and temperature zone and climate is represented. 

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

Since the first book’s finished except for a few scenes and the final fight leading up to the already-written ending, most of the scenes are already down on paper. The second book, however, oh, boy! I have SO much planned and cannot wait for the willingness to write it down. XD

22. What excited you about this story?

I originally wrote this story back in high school. As you can tell by my username, I’ve kept the characters with me through the years. :] Recently (meaning last year, I think), I got to thinking about the original story from high school (titled: “The Unknown Soldier,” I think), and I missed it. So I dug out the original copy, started reading it, and by about, oh I dunno, page 2, I was ready to hang myself ‘cause the writing was THAT BAD.

But the plot was a good one. The characters were half-developed, but they had the potential to be so much better. So I remolded them, fleshed them out, added a ton more characters, revamped the settings, added MORE settings, dumped in a whole bunch of emotional turmoil, updated some names, increased the stakes tenfold, added more magical/fantasy elements, and landed these characters in a MUCH better story. 

A lot about the story excites me, but to know I revitalized an old story, pried it off the gurney, and zapped it back to life--a life better than the one it had before--that excites me. :]

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

Frantic. Messy.

I write scenes as they come to me. Stitch them together later with transitions, and edit to fix any time lapses or to plug in missing information. I do outline, but they look like this:

Guy does this thing. it’s cool, but not too cool. Then girl finds out. And note for later: the girl’s really a guy. OH! And remember by scene five to put in a live rooster or else the whole chicken joke won’t make ANY SENSE. End with badass scene with knives. RESEARCH: knives.

Hey, I just made that up on the spot. Welcome to my brain.

But that’s the basic idea behind what my outlines look like. XD Except, I do usually write my outlines in ALL CAPS and important items are bolded or highlighted. But that’s a minor detail.

Rooster.

...

Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

NOW GO WRITE! (or tag yourself and do this. T’was fun.)

[hedonssippingseagrams]

Fic Rec List

I am BIGLY procrastinating so I thought I’d spend some time compiling a fic rec list. Not comprehensive, or in any order. These are just the ones that I re-read or have made me lose my shit. Most of them are ones we’ve all read, but hey... You never know. If you don’t see one that you love on here, send me it! I may have missed some great things.

Barn Burner by campholmes - Hockey butches who hate each other turned girlfriends. There is something magic about this story for me. Maybe it’s the way it’s from Katya’s pov but I can clearly see each of Trixie’s thoughts because I’ve had them before and it’s like watching myself but through the eyes of someone who just wanted to eat Trixie’s ass this whole time. 

 They Don’t Make Em like They Do in the Coutry by yekaterina - Look, let’s just pause and say that half of this list is going to be yekaterina and campholmes but I’m not going to apologize for that. This one features a big age difference with the youngest of them being 30 (I, for one, am tired of reading about 20 somethings falling in love, she says as she fully has a fic about that) and a buzzed headed Trixie who inherited her daddy’s bee farm. Katya works at public radio and is written like a muggle version of Prof Trelawney and I’d quit my job to follow her anywhere.

Vegasboud and Down by yekaterina - Look, I’m showing some serious self control to only have this third on the list. I love this fic so much that it’s actually embarrassing. (No, really. My no drag knowledge friend got me a chocolate semi truck because when I got drunk at her house all I talked about was Big T. In my defense, chapter 2 had just dropped.) This fic features a nasty big dumb truck driver, a broken yet tough and witty erotic dancer, and an adorable rat pup. I can’t even talk about it because while I may be procrastinating, we’d be here all night.

Sandpaper by UNHhhh - Het sex? In my fic list? Yep. This shit is the hottest thing I’ve ever read. But besides that, it’s so well written, the descriptions are refreshing and vivid and sometimes I get lost in my re-reads because I’m fascinated by the small details the author has included.

Double Lines by UNHhhh - domestic pregnant trixie really gets me going. This fic gives me baby fever and I hate it for that but otherwise it’s sooo good. The little nickname in there thrills me. It all thrills me. The relationship is so strong and their fight they have in the middle just... it’s so good. I’m knocked out of words thinking about it.

We’ll take a pause from the holy trinity of authors and explore my other recommendations, but if you haven’t read every single work by those three authors then you’re wrong. 

Honey and Yarrow by katyazeroni - First, A+ for that author name. Second, this is so adorable and cute but also manages to be raunchy and realistic when you’d almost least expect it.  If every tumblr post about wanting a lesbian girlfriend got compiled into one fluffy little present featuring cacti, it’d be this. I love it.

I found a fox, caught by dogs by whenyourhairisalsoahood - This fic has actually changed me as person, no hyperbole. You’ve got yoga teacher katya (but she’s so much more than that in this story) dating a lighting tech Trixie. You’ve got accurate portrayals of past addictions, you’ve got cunty with a heart of gold Violet, you’ve got fisting. This fic has helped me find things within myself that are strong and good, it’s opened my mind to gender roles and where I’d like to ideally fall in them, it’s given me a new kink. It’s so wonderful and I cannot recommend it enough. 

Powdermill Lane by silvervelour - I’m a slut for any fic that takes place in the 90s and opens to a beach bonfire. This toys around with lost love that’s never truly lost and the idea that a small town doesn’t have to be a prison. It’s so much NOT a cliche that it’s jarring at first. I’ll admit, I read it slowly because it always went where I least expected. And I loved that. It’s beautiful and it feels like the type of fic to read while laying on the couch on a Sunday afternoon.

Take Off Your Pink Cowboy Boots by silvervelour - There are some authors that you can tell what they’ve experienced (or not) by how they write their fics. And I can tell you that silvervelour has been in a life changing kind of love. Their fics about Sashea are equally beautiful and soft and slow and calm, so go read those as well. This one is about famous Trixie and back up dancer Katya and for once it’s Katya taking care of Trixie, which is so sweet and kind. I love it, I love love. 

For All The Honest World to Feel by daremebyday - First, I don’t like non-aus very much, but this one is beyond. Second, I’m not sure I’m caught up on this because I had to stop reading because Trixie’s depression was hitting too close to home. But it’s smart and beautiful and cuts deep and I respect daremebyday so much for writing this.

Two Roads Diverged by artificiallale - 13 Going on 30 meets Trixie Mattel. This one in particular has consumed many a text message thread. It’s only 2 chapters in, but it’s one to keep your eye on.

Little Plastic Castle by artificiallale - Let’s do a little lale streak, eh? This one’s cute and sweet and can be read in a quick sitting. I’m a sucker for bakery aus and this little surprise about Katya’s identity was adorable to watch unfold. 

A Ticket to Anywhere by artificiallale - This is the good shit. I love an unreliable narrator and Katya is a plain dumbass in this. Plus there’s a subplot that really makes it worth the read. 

Girls Like Dollies   and   Wingwomen by artificiallale - If you like high school fics, here, drink your juice. If not, no biggie. I’ve stopped reading them, but I liked these when I first got into the fandom. GLD is cute because I love me a good “but I can’t be gay!” story line and WW is cute because it feels like Glee fanfic and I’m trash. 

LoveShack by mallstars - Bitch. This is it. This is my shit. Amber and I will text all damn day about these idiots. Remember that one house at college that was the party house of your crew and it sometimes feels like a liminal space when you think back on it? Welcome to this fic.  (Shout out to Billy and Ryan’s house on West End and special shout out to the bathroom across from Alex’s room where I gave my first oral.) 

A Patch of Heaven by miss_squid - Katya in a suit and Trixie in an ugly bridesmaids dress spend a weekend together. This is cotton candy cute.

When the Sun Comes Up by planecrashdreams - I wish this had finished, but I’m putting it in because it’s good stuff. Urequited (well, requited yet not acted on. Well, acted on but never mentioned again) love. It’s non-au, but I love me a good heart break every now and then.

There’s Beauty in a Work in Progress by acactusandalily - I’ll admit, I’m not sure about this one yet. I’m intrigued as hell and I love Trixie so much in it, but Katya has me a little worried, as do the tags. Guarding my heart with this until it develops, but I trust this author to give me a happy ending. 

Hello? by chantiemaya - GUYS. What was I doing putting this so low?!? A cheating fic DONE CORRECTLY?!? What. I love infidelity fics because I love seeking validation for my past mistakes but this one is great. It also consumed many a text message between Amber and I as we wondered what Joe was going to do. 

Every Other Freckle by missbinch - This reminds me of a favorite fic I read in another fandom. Trixie is Katya’s assistant, Katya is unhappily married to a senator. It’s well written and sweet and gives me butterflies. Currently on hiatus/unfinished.

Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by trixyaas - You may be thinking to yourself, this is a lot of lesbian fic with zero historical or period pieces. You’re welcome. This is a 1915 fresh off the boat Katya working at Trixie, I’m sorry Beatrice’s daddy’s mansion. She’s about to be promoted to Trixie’s personal maid and spoiler alert Trixie is also a lesbian. What sort of hijinks could ensue?

Five Foot Three by thesemovingparts - Another college fic, this time featuring But I Can’t Be Gay Trixie Mattell, now with Added Trauma. The big part of this that makes me fall in love is that it features my girlfriend Chicago. My friend (the same one who bought the semi truck) has read this because she went to Columbia College and we both love it a lot. 

Troika by spoky - abandoned but so worth reading the first few chapters for the laugh. Guys, Trixie... and Alaska... are dating. And ask... Katya...  to top. I’m wheezin.

Weak by knox - And now we’re fully delving in to non-trixya territory. This one is violet/katya/trixie poly relationship and I’m pretty sure if you chant that phrase three times into a mirror, I appear. It’s damn good.

To the Sickle and Back by aphistas - Soulmate au, violet/katya. Takes place during season 7 filming. This fic shook me to my core and I love it to pieces. 

Strawberry Moon by vrginsacrifice - You know those movies that are so so so good until the end and you get so mad and you rewatch them to see if anything could have told you that it’d end so bad and you go online to see if there’s an alternate ending or a director’s cut? Anyway, read Strawberry Moon. Violet and Trixie compete for Katya’s love, but Katya is maybe to selfish to deserve either of them.

Something Borrowed by artificialjazz and Missbianca - THIS FIC IS MY LIFE. My life and my blood and my oxygen. Spoiled little courtney comes home to find a new wife to be Willam in her house. They end up fucking. They end up in love. The wedding is still on.

Strawberry Daquiri by missbianca - I love witney and I especially love witney in Willam’s pov. I especially love witney in Willam’s pov when they get the voice right for him. This is perfect and sweet and sad but then happy!

More Than I’m Supposed To by missbianca - one more witney because i fucking love witney okay someone needs to write more please

Possibly, Maybe by pichitinha - Coffee Shop AU with the sweetest little plot I’ve ever seen in my life. Cavities. This has suspense and drama and everything is exactly right for a fluff piece. I’m currently really behind in the thing I’m procrastinating on and even skimming this made my anxiety disappear for a minute. It’s good.

Sk8er Girl by Squeaky Pink - Look, I hate reccing things on AQ because it’s impossible to find anything, but this is adorable and I miss this author. HS au, bad girl Katya, good girl Trixie. What more could you want?

Unlikely  and Set Up by Spoky - This is Alaska/Kim Chi fic and that’s really all you need to know to get you to click. Adorable and short.

Art and Anatomy by Pink Shrooms - an oldie but a goodie. College roommates, trans Katya, pee kink, seriously good love. I can’t recall much about it as my list gets further and further, but I know it deserves to be here.

Dina’s Fun Aunt by Ellen Thwoorp - Look, this was one of the first fics I read and it still holds up to this day. It’s adorable kindergarten teacher trixie with eccentric russian katya. Trixie’s closeted, Katya is a woman in love. 

Willam Fixes Everything by Mistress - Oh, yall wanted a twist? Willam/Trixie with some eventual Trixya. Short and sweet, could read in less time than it’d take Willam to make 200 dollars, and it’ll leave you smiling. 

Welcome to the Dollhouse by fryshook - This whole thing reads like I’m high and I love it. Violet and Trixie have a weirdly tumultuous past and are hanging out when Katya sends them a video of him jerking off? I don’t know man but this thing brings me so much joy. It’s one-liner after one-liner.

Alright, back to the good stuff.

Busted Saddles by UNHhhh - Do you ever find yourself liking the aesthetics of brokeback moutain but you want lesbians? You’re in luck! There’s a moment where trixie rides a bike in yellow pedal pushers for a several miles just to bring katya a pie (and then she rides katya and eats her pie, yaknowwhatimean) (I’m getting delirious why did I take this task on.) But yeah this is a great fic I love it I love cowgirl Katya I love any fic that has a pick up truck because I’m southern trash.

Women’s Liberation is a Lesbian Plot by campholmes - Did you see Milk once in college? You’ll probably like this. All jokes aside, this is a lovely and beautiful story. You can tell the author has done her research (which can be said about everything she writes) and it’s really easy to visualize the girls and their personalities. 

The Right Allocations by campholmes - Yeeeeaaahhhh. I don’t even know. I love this song, I love this idea, I love this fic. Fucking Katya in shoulderpads borrowing a pen from Brian Firkus’s gay ass who then proceeds to have the best day of his life. How does the baseline from the song play in your head the whole time you’re reading? That’s good writing.

A Philosophical Anthology of Fucking by campholmes - First, im not just listing all of her fics here, but I am choosing my favorites to discuss. Let me live. Second, Trixie as a needy little bartender to Katya’s Judith Butler gig? It’s all I want. This phrase: “Katya is certain she’s complimented almost constantly, and she’s glad for it. She deserves it.” tells you everything you need to know and it’s such a good story.

Are You Good? by campholmes - You knew it was coming. It’s so good though! Sugar mama fic at it’s finest, with a really good fight in there at the end. Plus, some of the smut in here is insane. 

Rose Soap by campholmes - 70s lesbians. Weed. Bell bottoms. Falling in love. This list making has made me realize that I love fics with giant fights in them that bring them closer together. After I read this I bought rose scented lotion so I could smell Trixie. Hey, im gay whats up .

Glasnost by campholmes - Okay. But this one is too good. It shouldn’t even be on this list. This should be in a museum. Two Russians fall in love in the worst time in Russia, but Katya is too stubborn and selfish to be an active participant in their love. Huge fight. Yuge. I remember when it came out, I was texting up a storm about it. We took sides. (I think Trixie was right, no doubt.) I am patiently waiting for the last installment to see how the girls settle it all. Do not read with vodka or you’ll die trying to keep up with Katya.

Belle Femme by campholmes - This was one of the first fics I read in the fandom and I am so happy that it was. The first few paragraphs hit home in a way that was and still is so jarring that I had to screen shot them and send them to fellow teacher friends. 

Cactus and Lily by campholmes - remember that time Two Birds came out and we all fell debilitatingly in love with trixie? Campholmes wrote a fic about it.

Perestroika by campholmes - It’s too late in this to include reaction gifs but the blinking guy belongs here. So you’ve got little baby drags Trixie, still tight with Trannika and Kim, still pudgy and hasnt buzzed his head yet. Then you’ve got baby drags Katya who suddenly has to host Trixie in her apartment and Trixie falls in love with her HArD and then suddenly when your heart is so full you’re only at the end of chapter one?? And you get to see Trixie go to the Race and Katya transition and they like become adults with lives and each other and its all just magic.

*cracks knuckles* These next four are all just one chapter each but please listen when I tell you that it is all worth it. Just read them, subscribe to them, and when beatricemattel wants to grace us with their gifts, you’ll be rewarded.

Dinner’s Ready by yekaterina - hahaha so this was a concept that used to get mentioned right when I started following beatricemattel but I was never sure if I’d see it. Boy howdy. This is... unsatisfied housewife katya who drinks too much wine and loathes her life meets pink prim proper avon (mary kay?) lady trixie and somehow i swear to god you can look at the words, there’s no written tension but you FEEL IT because ao3 user yekaterina is not a real person who speaks and writes english like the rest of us, they are a messiah that has been granted to us

Pretty in Pink by yekaterina - You know that fuzzy pink sweater of trixie’s? This idiot wrote an entire fic about it. That’s it, really. I have the biggest heart eyes for this fic and soft sweaters and sticky little children who hide in libraries.

Here Comes Your Man by yekaterina - DILF brian. Daddy Brian with his daughter Jolene and his pink ass pants show up to a Valentines day party to meet this frumpy yet gorgeous woman and she realizes that he’s a D she’d L to F. dilf daddy brian. I can’t stop saying those words because they feel so right.

In Deep Trouble by yekaterina - Here’s a fun fact about me. I had my first wet dream after watching Whip It with ellen page. This fic is a roller derby fic. Katya seems intimidated by Trixie which is just my type of shit. 

Well, that’s all folks. It’s 1:44 am here, my alarm goes off at 5:30 and I haven’t done any of the shit I need to do before work tomorrow! Punch me in the motherfucking face, am I right? 

But I hope you find something new in this list to bring you joy. Send me things you think I’d like that aren’t on here. (Friendly Fire is on my list to read, I promise!)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Countless Roads - Chapter 1

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 1 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

A/N: Have an extra-long first chapter to get us properly started. All comments welcome and appreciated!

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"You stay the hell away from him!" the voice roars.

Len shakes and shudders and curls up in a ball on the floor.

Juvie is worse than he could have imagined – oh, the kids themselves are bad enough, pushy and mean and some of them are old enough for the look in their eyes to be more than standard schoolyard aggression, but it's only Len's first day; they're going to wait until the guards lose interest in him before trying anything.

The ghosts don't wait at all.

It's a bad place, a centering ground, land that stinks of sadness and anger and sucks in ghosts like a whirlpool. Human misery is the only company these ghosts have –

– at least, until Len arrives.

The unquiet dead gather their forces as he gets checked in, watch him, teeming with anticipation, in the yard, and then come for him right after dinner.

His own ghosts, bought in coin – pieces of future years – spent before he came, try their best to protect him, but he underestimated the number of unquiet dead lingering here. He underestimated the number of murderer's victims, children and adults, the number of suicides, the number of unlucky daredevils, the number of accidental deaths –

And then Mick – though Len doesn't know his name, not yet – rips them off of Len, one leech at a time, and puts himself between them and Len's shaking, spasming body.

"Hurts," Len rasps, unable to say more.

"Don't worry," the other boy says, glaring. He's big, for a teenager; a promise of height and breadth in the future. "I won't let them near."

"Gimme a hand up?" Len asks.

The boy shakes his head, and that's when Len realizes.

"You're dead too, ain't you," he says, flat as a stone.

"I've been here the longest," the boy responds, shrugging. "Since before they built the place."

Len sighs and climbs to his feet. He'd so hoped, seeing the boy’s strength, that he'd finally met another of his kind, but no; the boy's just another apparition. Barely that, even; he has a very strong presence, probably due to his age, but he’s not even a poltergeist on his own merits.

"Thanks," he tells him anyway, because apparition or not, the boy did just save his life.

"Don't mention it," the kid says.

The funny thing is, he really seems to mean it. No favors requested, no suggestions that Len repay him, nothing.

If anything, the guy seems to avoid Len whenever possible – which isn't much, because he comes rushing in whenever the unquiet ghosts float too close.

"Why are you helping me?" Len asks him.

"Don't like bullies," the kid says shortly. "Never did."

Then he retreats again, dashing away every time Len comes anywhere near him.

"Don't you want something?" Len asks. "Something you want to do?"

"Nah," the kid replies. "I'm good."

"You're a ghost. You gotta want something."

"Not from you, you little punk."

The curiosity is starting to get to Len. Finally, he gives up on trying to figure out the kid's angle and takes a different approach.

"What's your name?" he asks.

The kid-ghost blinks, then narrows his eyes at him warily. "What's it to you, necromancer?"

Len makes a face. "I ain't a necromancer," he protests. "I can't raise dead or command ‘em or nothing; I just make 'em closer to real, s'all. Life-sharing. Totally different."

“Uh-huh. And what about summoning ‘em and making ‘em possess people or something?”

“No, that’s mediums. I ain’t never even met one of those, but I hear they’re creepy. I just…share, s’all.”

"Why you want my name, then?" the kid asks, still suspicious.

"'cause I'm getting tired of calling you kid-ghost," Len replies, exasperated. "And right now I don't got anything to shout if I need your attention."

"You've always got my attention," the kid grumbles. "My ma says you give someone your name, you give 'em power over you."

Len rolls his eyes. "Well, my name is Leonard Snart, but sometimes when my mom got mad she’d use the full on Leonard Jacob Snart birth certificate business. Now you know, so don't misuse it. And nice to meet you."

The kid finally cracks an involuntary grin. It changes his whole tough face, making it go bright and delighted, smashing that tough guy image with glee. "Oh what the heck," he says. "I'm Mick. That's Michael Christopher Sebastian Rory, actually, but everybody called me Mick."

"Nice to meetcha, Mick," Len says. "I'd offer to shake, but...well…" He wiggles his fingers. Magic, life-giving fingers.

Mick sniggers.

Maybe there is something to what Mick's ma said about names, because after that they're inseparable. Best friends from different eras, friends like neither of them ever had before. Maybe they’d have been best friends in this life, if only Mick wasn’t dead, but Len will take friendship with a ghost over nothing.

The other kids think Len's crazy, talking to himself, and ostracize him, relegating him to the outcast table with the quiet dangerous ones like Jumping Jimmy and Shrieking Sam and Cuckoo Charlie. (Len gets dubbed Lunatic Leo, which, ugh. He’s going to find a better nickname if it kills him.)

But really, Len doesn't mind where he sits, so long as he's got Mick.

Sitting at the crazy outcast table is kinda funny, actually; Mick's a pretty good judge of people, Len's found, and his invisible commentary over people's heads is hilarious.

"He's just got no volume control and a spoiled temper," Mick says of Sam. "Nothing to worry about."

"Ma said people like him just had a devil in 'em keeping them from sitting still," he says of Jimmy. "It ain't no problem, long as they keep busy."

"And Charlie?" Len asks, amused.

Mick considers this. "I think he's gonna grow up to eat people. Stay away."

Len snorts, but does.

Mick’s damn useful in a fight, which Len does inevitably get into, shouting advice (mostly “duck” and “hit him in the face”), and Mick likes watching fights, too. But most of all, Mick likes fighting the unquiet ghosts himself; in particular, he's got a real hatred of a group of white supremacists that got themselves stabbed in a gang fight back when the juvie was a real prison. They hate Len, which makes sense what with him being Jewish and all, but they still want his life, and that just pisses them off more, which means more fights for Mick.

"You like punching Nazis, huh?" Len teases.

"Hell yes," Mick says. "They're bad stuff, through and through."

"Regular Captain America you are."

"Who?"

“What d’you mean, who? Captain America! From the comic books!”

“I’m dead,” Mick points out. “I don’t keep up on popular culture.”

“No way,” Len says stubbornly. “Captain America’s been around forever. I’m pretty sure he was drawn punching Hitler in the face on his very first cover.”

“Say, that’s not bad,” Mick says, grinning a bit. “Punched him in the face, you say?”

“Didn’t you read comics?”

“Sure I did,” Mick says, crossing his arms. “Joe Palooka, Dick Tracey, Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers – the whole lot of ‘em.”

“What the hell are those?”

“You don’t know those?”

“I think I’ve heard of Buck Rodgers – he a spaceman or something?”

“Yeah, him and Flash Gordon, both of ‘em. Dick Tracey’s a sleuth, and Joe Palooka’s a boxer.”

“Don’t you got any crime fighters? Like in costumes? Superheroes?”

Mick wrinkles his nose when he frowns in thought. “Uh, I mean, I guess maybe the Phantom? It was brand new; real cool stuff, fighting pirates and stuff. They called him the Ghost Who Walks. Real sweet.”

“Brand new,” Len says, shaking his head. “When did you die again? The dark ages?”

“Eh, may as well have been,” Mick says. “We all thought the world was ending.”

“Every generation thinks the world’s ending.”

“Nah, not like ours,” Mick says. “Between the Depression and – what was it they were calling the black blizzards, the Dust Bowl? Anyway, between those two, it was real bad.”

“Wait,” Len says. “When exactly did you die?”

“Late 1936.”

“Shit. You are old.”

“Told ya,” Mick says smugly.

“Was there even a juvie here?”

Mick rolls his eyes. “No,” he says. “The juvie’s only a decade or two old. Before that it was a prison. Before that, it was a particularly badly run farm.”

“…your farm?”

“Well, yes.”

“You were a farmer?! Working the fields, calling in the cows, all that sort of thing?”

“I died first,” Mick reminds Len.

“But still – you’re so old.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no – it’s just – I’m gonna get you all the comics,” Len says, and does, even if it means spending some of his hard-earned money – all the juvie kids get pennies for every hour they work in addition to the required school time – and that of others (mostly the rich kids who get some from their parents in the mail) on some of the old reprints, the ones that go real cheap nowadays and are kinda corny by modern standards. But it's worth it.

Mick loves comics.

He can’t move the pages himself – not unless Len gives him some life, which Mick steadfastly refuses to accept – but Len can flip them nice and slow, letting Mick have time to read each page, and sometimes when Mick’s eyes keep crossing the letters too much to make it fun, Len reads them aloud to him, sound effects and all.

“Man, the library says Snow White hadn’t even come out in 1936,” Len marvels. “You know that? Snow White, man. That’s like the first ever Disney.”

“No, it ain’t,” Mick objects. “Disney’s the one with the shorts, ain’t it? Steamboat Willy. Silly Symphonies. Three Little Pigs.”

“Mick,” Len says solemnly. “You break my heart.”

“I sometimes watch that Disney stuff when they’re on the rec room TV,” Mick says, pouting. “I ain’t totally uncultured. S’just hard to remember stuff from after you’re dead, s’all.”

“You’re running out of life,” Len says, because he’s heard of it happening before. “Ghosts stick around because of what happened during their life, and they only remember what happened afterwards if they’ve got enough left over for it – you sure I can’t give you some?”

“No, Lenny,” Mick says, long-suffering.

Len sulks, and introduces Mick to Alice in Wonderland the next time the rec room’s free.

Probably a tactical error, since Mick shouts, “Off with their heads!” the next fifteen times he dukes it out with the unquiet dead, but hey, it’s funny.

--

“How’d you die?” Len asks one day, when he’s only got two weeks left to go in juvie, studying a deck of cards he’d lifted from a fellow student.

“Why do you want to know?” Mick asks, suddenly guarded.

“’cause I’m a nosy bastard,” Len says, since he can’t explain why he actually wants to know, which is that he wants to give Mick a gift. The dead carry on them what died when they died – clothing, stuff in their pockets, that sort of stuff. But Len’s found that if stuff ‘dies’ the same way a ghost does, he can hand it to the ghost and they can keep it.

He hopes it’s not something too weird. He doesn’t want to have to hang a deck of cards, or electrocute it, or have it get run over by a herd of chickens or something.

…that last one would be hilarious, though.

Mick grunts.

“Please?” Len says, which is rare enough that Mick gives him a suspicious look. “Not like I’m gonna tell anyone.”

Mick stays silent a few minutes longer, and then, abruptly, he gets up.

Len blinks up at him.

“Fire,” Mick says. “I died in a fire.” And then he disappears.

Len scowls in the direction of Mick’s ghostly self. He didn’t feel any passing-on-ness, or whatever you call it when a ghost kicks the bucket for good, so Mick’s just gone somewhere else to sulk because heaven forbid Len tries to learn some personal info about the guy beyond what type of breakfast he prefers (answer: corn mush with milk, or yesterday’s bread crusts – ick!).

On the other hand, it did give Len a bit of an opportunity.

Fire, huh?

Sounds like an unpleasant way to die, but at least it makes giving Mick stuff easier. Lifting a lighter from the guard that likes to smoke is easy enough, and finding a nice shady corner on top of lots of concrete to minimize excess burning is even easier.

Now he just needs Mick.

“Mick?” he asks the air.

No reply.

“Mick, you still sulking?”

Nothing.

“Mick, I could be being attacked right now. I’m not, but I could be.”

Zip.

Len contemplates pretending to die, but that seems a bit melodramatic.

“Hey! Mickey Mouse!”

Still nothing.

Hmm, and Len was sure that that would get him a punch in the face…

Mick couldn’t be gone, could he?

Len swallows. He really hopes Mick’s not gone. He knows that's wrong - you're supposed to hope that ghosts move on, not want them to stay - but he doesn't. He doesn't want Mick to go.

“Hey, Lunatic!” Tommy, one of the more annoying juvie kids, shouts. “Lost your imaginary friend?”

Len grits his teeth.

“Bet he left you ‘cause you were wasting his time,” Tommy taunts. “Poor kooky kid, what’ll he do all on his own?”

It’s just close enough to Len’s real fears that Len ends up punching Tommy in the face.

And then, as expected, spending the next ten minutes getting punched back by Tommy and his friends. And kicked. And –

Okay, the guards really should be intervening. Any time now.

“Hey, hold him down,” Evan Richards says. Evan Richards, never just Evan; he’s the sort of kid that would be – should be – exiled to the crazy person table, but he’s rich and his parents send him loads of treats, so he’s not. He’s got a big old grin on his face that Len doesn’t trust a jot.

“Why?” Tommy says skeptically. “He’s not getting up on his own anytime soon.”

Probably not true – Len’s a stubborn bastard – but closer than he’d like to admit.

Evan Richards’s grin widens. “I’ve always wanted to see what one of these does,” he says, and pulls out a little Swiss army contraption, used mostly for clipping or filing nails, that he’s sharpened well past any reasonable amount.

He’d probably call it a knife, Evan Richards would, but to people like Len, it’s called a shiv.

Shit.

“Mick!” Len screams, because he doesn’t trust the guards but Mick’s always come to help him before – if he’s still here.

The returning bellow of rage is the finest sound Len’s ever heard, right up there with Lisa’s first word (‘up’, as it happens; nothing but the best for his demanding little darling).

But Mick’s a ghost, barely even an apparition, and though he charges the fuckers that are holding Len down, he can’t do anything, just passes straight through, causing no more than a slight chill and a shudder.

“Mick, please,” Len says, struggling and kicking and keeping Richards back, just long enough, just long enough to get a hand free and reach out –

“God, he’s nuts,” Tommy laughs, and the others laughs with him. “Go for it – waste the cuckoo – no one’ll care –”

Mick reaches out and takes Len’s hand in his, and Len pushes, hard, with all the spare life he’s got in him.

Mick yowls, and Len can feel it too, like a zap from touching a live wire or a burst of static electricity, but then Mick’s there and all the kids are turning to look, shouting in surprise and demanding to know where the hell Mick came from and then Mick puts his fist into Evan Richards’ smirking face.

Three black eyes and a hell of a lot of bruises later, the gang breaks up and flees.

“Thanks,” Len pants. He’s pretty damn sore, and it’s only gonna get worse, but he has to find out if Mick’s okay – Mick, who didn’t want the extra power – the extra life –

“Holy crap,” Mick says, staring down at his hands. “I felt that. They felt that. That was – Len?”

“You angry at me?” Len asks. He’s feeling weirdly dizzy, the way you get if you haven’t eaten for three days and then you go sprinting from the cops. Everything hurts, but distantly, like he can’t really feel it.

“Angry – no, it’s not – Len, you’re looking real pale, you feeling okay?”

“Peachy,” Len says, and passes out.

When he wakes up, he’s in a bed in the nurse’s station, and Mick’s scowling at him from the next bed over.

Len’s got an IV.

Why’s he got an IV?

“Mick, why’ve I got an IV?” he asks.

Mick’s eye twitches.

“Uh,” Len says. “Mick?”

“That’s your first question?!” Mick roars.

“…yes?” Len says helplessly. “What, should I’ve started with ‘how are you’?”

Mick looks like he's considering strangling Len.

"I'm sorry," Len offers. Might as well get that out, if Mick’s already mad.

"What?" Mick says, annoyance disappearing into confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"For, you know," Len says, shrugging. "Prying. And sharing my life when you've been real clear you didn't want me to be sharing with you."

Mick stares at him for a long moment. "Len," he says eventually. "It ain't – you don't think it's your fault that I ain't taking bits of your life, do you?"

Well, when Mick says it in that incredulous tone, it sounds kinda dumb.

Len focuses on picking at the band-aid over the IV entry point on the inside of his elbow instead of replying, even though he knows that only reveals his guilt.

"Lenny, stop that," Mick says. "You need the IV."

"You never did say what it was for," Len says.

"It's to keep you alive, you nimrod. You nearly shoved all the life you had left up my goddamn arm."

"If Richards got me with the shiv, I wouldn't've had any life left to give," Len points out, but yeah, he distinctly remembers overdoing it in his panic. "S'that why I pass out like that?"

"That's why you swooned like a leading lady," Mick confirms.

Len glares. "Passed out, Mick."

"Whatever. Len – It ain't that I don't like you, or your life, or even having some of it myself, 'cause lemme tell you, being practically solid's been pretty awesome so far – "

"You're practically solid?" Len interrupts. "I ain't never done that before – "

"Lenny. Lemme finish. This is important."

Len shuts up.

"Anyway," Mick says. "What I mean to say is – I mean – oh, damnit. Len, I don't deserve any of your life."

"You just saved my life," Len says, unable to keep quiet. "Just as you've been doing this past month – "

"I started the fire!" Mick shouts. "I'm a firebug, and I knew it was bone dry, and I started that fire anyways, and that’s why everybody died! It was all my fault! I don't deserve nothing!"

"Oh," Len says blankly.

"Yeah," Mick says savagely, wiping at his face to clean up what they'd both pretend weren't tears when this was over. "So that's why."

Len nods. He's not sure what to say. He doesn't think anything will help a wound so deep that Mick became a ghost over it.

"I've heard of it before," he offers eventually. "Pyromania, it's called."

"What's that?"

"It's – " Len tries to remember. "It's a thing that happens to people, some chemical goes wrong in their brain, and then they start needing to light fires. Like an anxiety thing – can't calm down until there's a fire."

Mick frowns. “There’s a word for it?”

“Yeah,” Len says. “People that can’t help themselves around fires. It’s a medical thing.”

Mick looks stunned.

“What, thought it was just you?” Len jokes, except the look on Mick’s face kinda says that he did. “No, Mick, it ain’t you, if I’m right. It’s a – it’s a thing that happens sometimes, and no one’s to blame, you know. Sometimes people’s brains break, just like any bone, and you need medicine or something like that for it.”

“I still lit the fire,” Mick says, but he seems a little less burdened. “After they told me not to and everything. And even if I didn’t have a choice, I still should’ve warned ‘em about it.”

“That’s on you,” Len says, because people who say it’s not your fault when it is just make you feel worse. “But the fire thing, that ain’t –”

“How are you boys doing?” the nurse says, sweeping in.

“Fine,” Len says automatically, before realizing what she’d said.

He turns to stare at Mick. “Boys?” he mouths at him. What was with the plural?

“Told you I was near solid,” Mick mutters. “Hi, ma’am,” he says to the nurse.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Rory? You were having quite a fit out there.”

“Much better, ma’am.”

“We’ve alerted the police about your being here,” she continues briskly. “Since your name isn’t on the list.”

Len’s eyes go real wide at that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mick says tranquilly.

“And you, Mr. Snart, how are you feeling?”

“Uh,” Len says. “Okay?”

“Do you need more medicine?”

“Yes,” Len says, because the answer is always yes. Even if you don’t actually need it, you can always sell it.

Also, he’s kinda sore. All over. Everywhere.

Actually, it hurts a lot. Fuzzy and distant, like he’s got good drugs going on, but still not good.

“Is anything gonna happen to the kids what did it?” Mick asks. “Evan Richards and Tommy and the rest of ‘em?”

The nurse looks slightly uncomfortable. “They’ll be punished,” she says, but Len can tell she means that they’ll be slapped on the wrist, at most. Maybe a bit of time in detention instead of out on the school yard.

Well, good enough for Len. He never did trust anyone to give out punishment on his behalf; he’ll figure out a way to pay them back himself later on.

That’s not what’s important right now.

Len waits until the nurse checks them both over and leaves.

“Mick,” he hisses. "They can see you!"

“Told you!”

“What are we gonna do? Your name’s not gonna be on any records! Not any they’re gonna check, anyway!”

“Don’t worry,” Mick says. “It’s fine. It’s fading away already, since you gave it to me all in one shot – look, I’m practically able to go through the bed again. Another day - another couple of hours - and I’ll be back to being invisible if I wanna be.”

“If you wanna be? You’ll still be a full-powered manifestation?”

“You gave me a lot of life, Lenny,” Mick says disapprovingly.

Len shrugs, then brightens and checks his pockets. Good, they didn’t take the cards, or the lighter. “Here,” he says, holding them out. “Burn this.”

Mick stares at him.

“What?”

“I tell you I’m a pyro- a pyro-many – that I’m a firebug, and you gimme something to burn?”

“You died in a fire,” Len says reasonably. “If you burn the cards, you’ll be able to carry ‘em with you as a ghost, even once all the life’s gone.”

Mick’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Really. They gotta die with you, or something. Same way you died. Anyways, if you’re a pyromaniac, you’ll enjoy watching them burn, too.”

“That’s what you wanted me to come ‘round for, wasn’t it?” Mick asks, looking guilty.

“It’s fine,” Len says, pushing the cards and lighter into Mick’s hands. “Really – say, how much life I give you, anyway?”

“Why?” Mick asks, pulling the cards and lighter close and cradling them.

“Well – and you don’t gotta do this if you don’t wanna, but – how bound would you say you are to this place?”

Mick blinks.

“I want you to come home with me,” Len clarifies.

Mick’s eyes go wide.